


Another Day In A Life Or Two

by danglingdingle



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Captain Will Turner, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Modern Setting, Weddings, au-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 07:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11179761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danglingdingle/pseuds/danglingdingle
Summary: It's been a long time in the waiting, a lot of times that have been bad, plenty that have been good, and some pretty bloody strange, but tomorrow is going to be worth it.





	1. Chapter 1

A blond, long-haired woman appeared on the TV screen. She was smiling widely and in the studio lights you could see a small golden glint shining from her tooth jewellery.   
The sofa she was sitting on was a delicate pink and the blue screen behind the set reflected a beautiful manufactured Caribbean beach to the audiences at home.   
  
“Good morning world, and welcome to our show, ‘Good Morning World’”   
The voice was chirping, enthusiastic, and it became even more so with the next line.   
  
“Today we have the pleasure to meet one of the most extraordinary men to have ever walked the Earth. Some compare him to Jesus, and some regard him being spawned by the Devil himself.”   
She stared straight into the camera, reading her lines from the teleprompter so she didn’t have to struggle with her words. Like she would anyway.   
“You all know who I’m talking about…Without further introduction, I present to you, today, exclusively at Good Morning World, The Captain of the Flying Dutchman, the Sailor of the Final Rest, the First Mate of Sanctity…Mister William Turner!”

  
The woman made the effort to smile even more widely as she turned to welcome her guest. She didn’t fidget. She’d been trained to know better.  
  
  
There he was. The legendary man, the freak of nature that was supposed to be just a tale, a storyline in a movie trilogy that left people begging for a fourth one. Right there, in front of eight cameras and under the increasingly hot spotlights of the studio.  
  
Will walked over to the woman and shook her hand politely before sitting down beside her.

His shirt was strangling him and his face felt awkwardly masked with all the make-up they had insisted he had to wear.   
He was disoriented by the traffic he had been whisked through and by the hordes of people who were strangers to him.   
  
Feeling his armpits growing sweaty he was thankful for the sports coat he had on. At least he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed by the sweat stains.  
  
“Mr. Turner, thank you for agreeing to take part in our show, I believe no one thought it possible!”

The woman was glowing with the absolute joy of having this moment.   
Most of it was feigned, since she hadn’t been star struck in years, and she would have preferred Orlando Bloom for the interview. This was just for good ratings.  
  
  
“Thank you for having me. At first I didn’t know what to think of the opportunity to be here today.”

In all truth Will  _still_  didn’t know what the hell he was doing there. Or how it was even made happen. Or how he had been persuaded to do this in the first place since his first, second and third reaction to the invitation had been a definite ‘ _No!_ ’.   
  
“Now, Mr. Turner, as you probably know, we have three major blockbusters telling your story. Have you seen the movies yourself?”  
  
“Yes, yes I have. Very…entertaining. And my…friend was absolutely thrilled with them too.”

Honestly, he didn’t know what more to say. Even with the preparation he had done for this, Will hadn’t gotten the questions in advance, so the preparation was only to help him try to stay calm with what ever questions might be thrown at him.   
He was still baffled as to how the movies had even come into existence, with such accuracy and detail, and basically he didn’t know what to make of them. So he was concentrating on not pressing his hands into such tight fists.   
  
The interviewer leaned forward to create a sense of eager curiosity, trying to erase the silent moment that had grown too long. This guy didn’t seem to be the talkative type.

“According to the questions posted on our website, the world is dying to know…How much of the movies is really true?”   
  
Will cleared his throat a bit to avoid a hasty answer.

“Actually, most of it.”   
He hesitated, wondering if he should continue with the truth and decided to stay true to his nature. “The only big flaw that I can point out is that I never did get married.” 

  
This could only go in one direction now, and it was the wrong one. Still Will opened his mouth to continue, “But I can understand how the film-makers felt it necessary to have such romance in the movie. Otherwise it would have probably been too…disturbing…for the audience.”

Will tried smiling slightly along with his answer. He hoped it didn’t look as fake as it felt.   
  
The interviewer was a bit confused. She hadn’t expected that and was checking the teleprompter for help. The next question in line was ’How did Mrs. Turner cope with the long-distance-relationship?’ but that was hardly an issue now.

She looked over to the director and saw him frantically browsing through the script to the next question not referring to Elizabeth.   
For the moment, she’d just have to wing it.   
“You didn’t get married? You did rescue Elisabeth from certain death more than once, though, didn’t you?”   
This was seriously annoying her. She’d rip the people up who were supposed to check things like this.   
  
“Yes, yes I did, on several occasions actually. She was a dear friend, even if it wasn’t like it has been portrayed. We went through a lot together.”

Will noticed the faint nervousness of the interviewer and tried to ease it for her. After all, it wasn’t her fault he was there.   
“And I might add that we were in fact due to be married, but, as it was said in the movie itself, fate intervened.”   
  
  
The teleprompter scrolled to the next appropriate question.

“What about Jack Sparrow?”   
The interviewer was praying that the backround workers hadn’t fucked this one up.   
“There are records showing that he was hanged when the town of Tortuga was cleared from illegalities by the Royal Navy. Can you confirm that?”   
  
  
Will’s lips curled to a reminiscent smile.

“ _Captain_  Jack Sparrow.”   
Jack had always been insistent on being referred to correctly by unacquainted people.   
“I’m familiar with that story, yes, but I cannot confirm it.”   
His nervousness lessened a bit now that he was out of the more disturbing territory. Apparently there weren’t going to be more questions about his love life.   
“You see, there was a man hung that went by the name of Jack Sparrow, but it was later discovered that there were numerous pirates and other miscreants impersonating him. Riding on his reputation, as it were. In fact at least four Jack Sparrows were hanged back in those days.”   
  
  
The former glow of excitement in the woman’s appearance had turned to one of well hidden annoyance. Someone would pay for this shit. This farce of an interview did  _not_  make good television.

“So what  _did_  happen to him? Did you have any contact with him later in his life?”   
  
  
Thankfully Will had anticipated this, or at least something similar, so he didn’t blush much.

He did, however, have to lower his gaze to his hands to avoid eye contact with the woman.   
“He…erm…he continued being the last pirate threat in the Caribbean for several years before disappearing from the world. No one knows exactly what became of him.“   
Well, at least he didn’t have to outright lie. Now he could look into to the woman’s eyes again.   
  
  
“And did you meet him during those years?”

Not only was the backround check a mess, this man was not very entertaining. She tried milking something interesting from him, but the rigid form didn’t promise much.   
  
  
“I did meet him. Many times actually.”

If only he could just leave now.   
  
  
The woman leaned forward with her voice projecting an almost genuinely interested tone again.This could be good.

“Were there any more adventures with the _swashbuckling_  pirate?”   
  
Will could swear the grinding of the gears in his brain as he tried to think of something plausible to tell the world were making an audible noise.

“Well, if watching him drowning himself in a bottle of rum with an ale chaser can be called an adventure…Nothing worth mentioning, really. More like the type of conversations you have with a friend you don’t really know, and meet after a long time. Talk about weather and such, you know how it is.”   
Good God. He’d just said something like that and didn’t die from shame? Practise apparently  _did_  make perfect.   
  
  
The interviewer sighed inwardly. No prizes from this one then.

“And what about your duty on the Flying Dutchman? Can you tell us something about that?”   
Secretly, she was hoping for some gore details. It would be something at the least. 

  
  
“Well, to be honest, these days it’s quite boring really.”

This earned Will a small polite chuckle from the woman.   
“People aren’t dying at sea anymore, not like they used to, so business is kind of slow, so to speak.” 

  
The interviewer decided to push it, totally ignoring the script.

“Tell us, Will Turner, what has been the single most devastating incident in your soul-ferrying career?”   
  
  
Will’s fairly amused smile dropped to a serious stare and the woman knew she’d hit something.

  
Will couldn’t believe the people in this world.   
He tried to remind himself of the cold fact that people just had no idea, no real comprehension of the work he had done and was still doing, when needed, but the question was too casual even with that.

“The Titanic.” He would  _not_  elaborate. These people knew about it, had seen the overly romanticised movie about it, so they were free to use their imagination.   
“And the Estonia.” Too many children…   
It was always hard with the souls that had not even thought about dying at the sea. They were so unprepared and afraid.   
  
Pleased with the faint glint of tears forming in Will’s eyes and noticing the camera panning to it, and the director giving her the thumbs up, the woman shifted gear again and acquired a sympathetic tone to her voice.

“I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you…You don’t have to talk about it, I think the world knows what you’re saying.”   
For a brief moment she calculated if she should put her hand on the man’s shoulder to emphasize her words, but decided to stick with a sad smile. For some reason she knew Will would see right through her if she touched him.   
Now she had made the perfect opportunity to wring even a tiny drop of drama into the play.   
“What happened to your father?”   
At the change in Will after the question, the interviewer felt like slapping herself. Twice.   
The weirdo was smiling widely and any glint of the precious tears was gone instantly.   
  
  
“My father. Bill Turner.”

Will was warmed by the memory of his passing. It had been a beautiful evening, and the evening before had definitely been a worthy farewell for a pirate.   
“He passed on nearly two hundred years ago.”   
Will’s smile turned even wider and happier.   
“He had started to wish he could maybe see my mother again, so he wanted to go and try to find her. “   
He actually laughed quietly at the memory.   
“After making sure I would be fine without him, of course.”   
  
  
If the thought of never getting her own show hadn’t kept her in tight control of her actions, the interviewer would have just let her jaw drop to the floor with her eyes wide. What sort of a freak laughs at his own father’s death? Seriously.

“We have time for one more question. This one was amongst the most asked questions sent to our website, so here it goes.”   
She straightened her back to underline the question.   
“People want to know: What do you do with your free time, since you can’t go on land, and how do you live on a ship from day in and day out?”   
  
  
Many answers surged through Will’s mind instantly, and not one of them agreed with his sense of propriety. He needed to get out of here, he obviously was too nervous and too much of a stranger to these surroundings to have  _those_ thoughts answering  _that_  question.

Finally, the more suitable answers came around.   
“I read a lot. And we have the modern technology having commandeered the old ship, so there’s the internet, satellite television, everything you would find in a modern house, which keeps me occupied if there’s nothing more interesting to do.”   
In the rapidly changing world, the constant flow of new wonders brought to him was scearing him more than bringing him closer to the society. 

  
In a life where time had lost its meaning a long time ago, the turning and twisting of the world was hard for a man who loved stability. Even given the course and company his life had taken early on. Usually he was rather trying to ignore it all.

Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s not very different from what I imagine living in a house, on land, would be. Our sleeping quarters are big enough to have room for life other than being constantly reminded of my fate.”   
He paused to think if he slipped out something he shouldn’t have? Concentrating wasn’t easy with the nervousness creeping back and forth on his neck like some huge spider.   
“My life isn’t really that different from anyone else’s, it’s just... onger. And I get to see more places than most others.”   
And he had what most others, sadly, did not.   
  
  
The woman wasn’t exactly amazed by the boring answer. She turned to look into the camera and arranged the glow and the enthusiastic smile back on her face.

“Unfortunately we’ve run out of time for our interview with Mr. Turner, the captain of the Flying Dutchman. Thank you for watching. We will be right back after these messages from our sponsors.”   
The cameras panned to Will once more before fading to commercials.   
With a sign from the director that it was over, Will sighed with relief and rose to his feet. 

  
Smiling apologetically, he extended his hand to the woman to shake hers for goodbye.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” 

  
The woman shook Will’s hand and found some sincerity in herself.

“That’s ok. At least you were here, and that drew a larger amount of people more in front of their televisions than the usual morning. You did well.” 

  
  
Will could swear that for a second the hand he was still holding turned into a man’s hand and the cold undertone in the voice sent chills down his spine.   
  
He realized that through the whole interview, the woman’s behaviour was like talking with Beckett had been such a long time ago. Never after that had Will met someone as soulless as he had been. Until now. Even with the man dead, his spirit definitely lived on.


	2. Chapter 2

Will shook the offered hands of the show’s executives obediently.

He even managed a slight bow for each one of them, thinking that the small talk and the forced smiling endured here would fit perfectly for another corner of the Locker.

His mind was drifting, making plans as to how to make it exactly as excruciating as the real thing, when he noticed, to his great relief, that he was finally getting out the door, out of the building and the chattering people were staying inside.

If he ever had to shake another damp, limp hand again, it would be too soon.

He raised his hand for one last wave goodbye and turned to walk over to the waiting cab. 

It was a short drive to the café that was his destination.

Will paid the driver, got out of the cab and was quickly approached by a few middle aged persons who had just seen the show on television and were, of course his greatest fans. Always have been, forever will.

Suppressing the nasty thought about these people having absolutely no idea of the meaning behind the term “always” never mind “forever” and how they could just take both the appraisal, and the ignorance, and shove ‘em, he signed the pieces of paper that were held out and walked on.

Looking through the cafe’s window Will saw a familiar face and finally a genuine smile formed on his lips.

He was invited in with a fluid motion of a hand and to take a seat at the table where the person was sitting.

Slouching himself down, he sighed, propped his elbows to the table, lowered his head to the support of his hands, and closed his eyes for the moment he needed to feel the relief of being rid of the excessive amount of people.

“That bad, huh?” Said his companion from the other side of the table.

Will opened his eyes, still holding his head, and nodded to the glass in front of the man before him.

“What’s that?”

The other man lift his glass and took a whiff of the liquid, extending his arm offering Will to have a sniff of the scent too.

“Cherry brandy” The man muttered with obvious discontent. “Apparently rum is out of fashion at the moment, can you imagine that?”

Will smiled and proceeded to smell the offered drink.

The stress had somewhat eased now that the security and the familiarity of his companion had efficiently reminded him of his place in this carousel called life.

He placed his hand on the other man’s hand so that they were holding the small glass together, and tilted it to take a sip from it.

“That’s quite nice actually. I think I’ll have one too.”

Will was unable to stop the small yelp escaping his lips when he felt the other man squeezing his thigh gently but firmly, just above his knee, under the small round table.

The few people who were at the café, turned to look at the couple and politely turned back to whatever they were doing before they were interrupted.

“Ye sure about that luv? At the hotel we could have rum.” Exclamation sounded through his words and his hand on Will’s knee was stroking gently.

“You should be happy they serve anything with alcohol here at all. After all, this is a café.”

The man let his hand glide higher on the leg he was caressing.

“My, that’s why I picked this place! How was I supposed to know they don’t have a drop of _rum_ in this bloody establishment?”

He marked the important words with the langorous movement of his hand through the air. “Honestly, my dear, they must’ve heard of Irish Coffee?”

The man reluctantly lift his hand from its touch to make even more underlined point. He was holding his hands palms up in front of him, as though begging for an explanation, pulling a desperate face.

“What kind of a  _barista_  doesn’t do Irish Coffee, mm?”

 

Will looked up to see the menu over the counter and spluttered trying hard not to burst into full out laughter. The fast changes of his feelings during the last few hours had left him a bit giddy.

“Jack.” He took the begging hands and made a mock-serious face.

Like a father talking to a slow child, he nodded his head to make a point. “Irish Coffee is made with  _whiskey_ , and they  _do_ serve it.” The educational tone made Jack flinch with a mocking grimace to counter it.

Understanding arose in Will’s feature and his tone changed from educational to feigning marvel. “My God, Jack! You just want a reason to excuse me back to the hotel, don‘t you?”

Jack grinned and opened his arms wide, tilting his head to look at Will innocently. “Ye got me luv. I’m caught. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

If the words weren’t mischievous enough, the wink certainly did the trick.

To have the nature of his intentions stated and underlined, Jack reached both his hands under the table, and glancing around , noticing no one looking their way, he slid the palms of his hands along Will’s inner thighs.

Will placed his hands on them.

“Much more than I can do here.”

He felt a knot of need starting to build up in the bottom of his stomach, Jack’s warm hands creating delightful feelings in him.

He had a brief moment of regret for not telling the world what Jack Sparrow really was to him, for not announcing his love when he had the chance, when after seeing the movies made about them, he had felt like he only wanted to do just that.

Then again, it was no one’s business but their own.

Squeezing the warm hands slightly, with a surge of tenderness toward the man rushing through him, Will looked at Jack.

The unique man seemed so drastically out of place here, almost like he was the only three-dimensional figure in a flat world with nothing but cardboard props scattered around.

Jack had tried to fit, tried to flatten himself to the norms of these awkward surroundings with little luck.

He’d taken most of the adornments out of his hair, tied his dreadlocks and braids back and covered his head with a light blue fedora hat. He wore jeans, a brown shirt that he had rolled the sleeves up a bit of, still covering his tattoos, scars and the distinctive brand of a convicted pirate.

Nothing stood out as unusual in the clothing, but for some reason he looked like a child who had been playing dress-up. Maybe it was the never fading glee in his eyes, or the mannerisms he couldn’t shake off, even if he wanted to. He was just too alive compared to anything else.

His shoes, the hat, everything was new, and the clothing not only made Jack highly uncomfortable, it made him look like he was being hammered to a mould he would never fit.

The unbraided, trimmed beard, and the lack of his usual rings on his fingers heightened the effect, and suddenly Will wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of there.

Now.

Now, before Jack would melt into the voids of this odd environment.

Every bit of the anxiety he had felt before came back in a hurry with its good friend panic.

“Will, what’s wrong?” The concerned voice pierced through to his consciousness.

Jack was alarmed by the paleness that has taken over Will’s face. The nearly horrified look in his eyes didn’t help either.

“Nothing, nothing, don’t worry.” Will gripped his lovers hands tightly in reassurance, calming himself down with the feel of those hands he knew so well. He paused to find the comfort again that he had felt just a moment ago and fought the need to press his face into those hands.

“I just don’t much care for this place.”

Jack pulled his hands from under Will’s and glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Good. We must be going anyway.”

He stood up, emptied the small glass and slammed it on the table, making everybody turn to look at them again. Jack smiled at the people apologetically and grabbed Will by his arm. “By your leave Mr. Turner, if you please.”

Jack hooked his arm around Will‘s waist firmly, making sure that Will felt the support, and gave a quick peck of a kiss to his jaw.

Then he saw something that he wasn’t used to, but instantly understood anyway. Jack resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the man who was rolling his eyes, nodding towards the couple and saying something to his companion with a cheapening grin.

Instead, he turned Will toward the door and swayed through it with his left hand flailing in the air.

“Luv, do you wish to be bottom or top today?” Adding a heavy lisp to his loud words, Jack pushed Will slightly with his hip and grinned.

The words didn’t go amiss, and looking back through the glass door, Will saw the reason for Jack’s behaviour.

He laughed impishly and leaned towards Jack to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

Neither of them turned back to see the effects of their provocation. Neither of them cared, and Jack was only glad he’d had a way to make Will laugh dropped right into his lap like that.

Even the slightest giggle always helped the man through bothersome moments. Jack hadn’t been fooled for a second with the ‘nothing’s wrong’- line.

 

Jack stopped a cab and gave the name of the hotel to the driver. It’s wasn’t a long way, but they didn’t know the city at all, so all they had was random names of random places and their firm belief that everything would be fine at the end of the day. Usually, they were completely shut off from the world unless they deliberately sought to be part of it, and they preferred it that way.

Had for well over three hundred years now.

The cab came to a halt in front of the entrance to the hotel. A valet opened the cab door, startling Will who was about to open the door himself.

“You’re famous now. You don’t get to do anything yourself.” Jack’s voice was leering. ”Especially now after the remark about Elizabeth…”

Stepping out of the car, Will whirled around to look at Jack suspiciously. “You saw the interview?”

“Of course I did! Wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” Jack took Will’s hand for support to get out of the cab too.

“I wanted to see if all the preparation had gone to waste…” He leaned down to kiss the back of Will’s hand theatrically.

“…Which it, by the way, hadn’t”

“And I definitely wanted to hear what you said about me.” Adjusting his hat, Jack puffed up his chest.

“And what lovely words they were…‘Jack Sparrow, the only pirate threat in the world.’”

He was leaning back slightly, looking into the distance and gesturing as if the world  _did_  belong to him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, not in so many words, and not necessarily in that tense, but still, I swear I heard it, and whatever it was, that you said, I’m sure that was what you meant.”

Jack pulled Will along to enter the hotel, shooing the usher away with his other hand.

“And what you meant is what matters, not the exact words.”

They stopped at the elevator and waited for the doors to open.

“You should know that by now, Will.”

Will rolled his eyes in amused exasperation. One of the things in the world that were destined to be unchanged, was Jack’s ego and Jack stroking it at every chance he got.

“Yes, Jack, you are a pirate and definitely a threat to the world.”

The surrender in Will’s tone made Jack chuckle happily.

Suddenly realizing that there was one thing about the interview that hadn’t been touched, Will decided to take the cat out of the bag to prevent possible consequences.

“Are you sure you were watching the same interview all the time? I mean, there wasn’t anything annoying you? ”

The remark that strongly suggested that Jack was constantly drunk, and not only that but boring as well, hadn’t raised any objection even though Will had thought it would certainly be a source for an argument, or at least would induce deep hurt and a day long pouting from Jack.

Jack raised an eyebrow in wonder.

“Why would I be annoyed? You telling the truth about  _everything_  isn’t anything new anyway, so you can stop worrying about it. Unless I missed something, and you told the world I‘m boring  _all_ the time... But, then again, that would be a lie, and you didn‘t say anything like that.”

The wonder changed to suspicion. “Or did you? You didn’t. Did you?”

“No, Jack, I didn’t say anything like that.”

“Oh, good!”

Will was never going to learn to completely understand Jack. Sometimes when Will was sure something was going to raise war, it didn’t, and sometimes some inane thing pushed the wrong button and all hell broke loose.

Boring? Never.

They were at the door to their suite and Will fumbled with the key card, dragging it through the slot too fast.

Neither of them had used one before this morning.

“Fuck!” Will gave up after fourth try and handed the card to Jack. “You try, oh fearsome Captain Sparrow.”

“Now, lookie here, captain of the final rest, or what ever it was. This machine is to be treated with respect and with a slow, gentle touch, to make it bend to your every wish…” The lock opened with a mechanical click.

Jack glanced at Will with a smug smile. “Much like you, really.”

 

Jack walked straight to the bedroom, tugging his shirt off, opening the buttons of his jeans and mumbling something about itchy clothes.

Will took a glance around the corridor and shut the door. He instantly felt better. No additional people, no fuss and no noises of the traffic. He leaned his back against the door and closed his eyes with a relieved sigh

He opened them again at the shout coming from the bedroom.

“Are you coming or not? I, personally, very much would like to be, coming, but I’d rather have you here for it.”

Will smiled warmly and felt his cheeks light up with slight flush. That man never ceased to turn him on. The slightest hint of having any kind of sexual activities with Jack was certain to light a fire in his belly.

 

“Come, come, luv, we don’t have all day.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jack knew that a swift sexual release would be the best trick to ease some of the tension in the wound up man.

The increase of the unexpected panic he’d seen developing in Will at the café had confirmed what he had seen in the television.

Jack would have to find something to bargain with, to negotiate to get Will on land more often. It wasn’t like Will to shy away from people, never mind be intimidated by them. If anything, it should be the contrary. What with his otherworldly purpose, and more, people should be uneasy around Will.

 

At the moment, he would have to make the best of what he had to offer now.

Clearing his mind and focusing on the brighter sides of life, Jack grinned lewdly at Will who was standing next to the bed, folding his clothes neatly and arranging them on the chair in the room.

Jack thought that Will didn’t put on much of a show with undressing, but the sight of his naked lover and his half-hard prick made Jack’s cock bob up and down.

“Oh, look, Captain Sparrow is inviting you to step forward! Isn’t that nice.”

Will laughed and climbed on to the bed. He positioned himself between Jack’s legs, hugging his lovers hips gently and snuggled his face against the junction of Jack’s thigh, his cheek pressing against Jack’s cock, and breathed in the heady aroma that clung to his skin. It was the single most beautiful smell in the world. And it was all the world for him now that the rest of it was safely locked outside.

“Let’s see what I volunteered for…”

He lift his head to rub his bearded chin against Jack’s lower abdomen gently and bowed down to place a kiss to the spot.

Will took a moment to look up to meet Jack’s eyes and grinned wickedly. Tracing the short path to Jack’s member with slight brushes of his lips, he licked the drop of pre-cum gingerly with the tip of his tongue.

Taking a deep breath to ease his anticipation, Jack reached to put the pillows behind his back for a better view. Seeing Will devouring his cock eagerly and watching him enjoying every second of it, had always been one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs for Jack.

The lad loved his prick and sometimes drove Jack completely insane by slowly teasing him for what had to be hours, not letting him come until Will had had his fun. Jack didn’t mind sucking cock either, not at all, but Will acted like a worshipper of a strange cult, fallen into a trance.

Now they didn’t , unfortunately, have time for an extended version, but still Jack was definitely going to let the man enjoy himself as much as possible.

Will shifted sideways on the bed, angling himself for a better position, and more importantly, for a better view for Jack.

Once again he looked at Jack to see the man trying to calm himself down and not just grab Will’s head and fuck his mouth.

By the looks of it, with Jack’s mouth slightly open and by the feel of Jack’s hand in his hair, the longer indulgence would have to wait until they were back on the ship.

Still Will couldn’t stop himself from taking whatever he could get now.

He looked at the erection in his reach and felt his own cock twitch at the sight and the musky aroma. Breathing heavily from his own arousal he concentrated on listening for the sounds that were about to be emanating from his lover.

Will placed his hand on Jack’s abdomen, the other hand sliding under his upper thigh.

He opened his mouth and instead of engulfing the prick, he breathed hotly on it. He licked the tip of the shaft more lavishly and lowered his mouth a bit further, barely touching, making Jack whimper with the need for friction. He felt Jack put his hand on Will’s back.

Will opened his mouth further and took more of the rigid shaft in, letting the head glide against his palate, all the way to the back of his throat.

Jack was breathing deeply, his hand making long, firm strokes on Will’s back, trying to coax him on to touch him rougher.

Listening intently for the best moment for his next move, Will started to caress the prick with his tongue, reaching as far as he could, and as he heard Jack breathing in, he gingerly closed his teeth around the hard length and pulled his head up slowly.

Jack let out a loud, long moan with his fingers digging into Will’s back convulsively.

Will quickly switched the touch of teeth to soft lips, gliding down and humming, eyes closed from the delight Jack’s sound aroused in him.

Jack’s moan turned to ragged breath punctured with small mewls. In his hazy greed for touch, he couldn’t understand how he could take this kind of sweet torture for such long times sometimes.

“Please, Will, have some mercy on me.” He was begging already. Well, fine...

Will’s smile would have become more wicked than it had been before, if he didn‘t have a hard cock buried in his mouth. He added as much suction as he could and pulled up. He let go with a slurp and grinned at Jack.

He lift his hand from where it had been on Jack‘s stomach, to grip the rigid rod firmly and started to stroke the slick and smooth flesh with agonizingly slow movements.

“What was that? Did you say something?” Will pasted as much innocence in his lust-thickened voice as he could.

Jack was trying to thrust into the hand wrapped around him but Will instantly loosened his grip for punishment.

An incoherent sound emitted from the back of Jack’s throat, displaying the stage of his frustration and the muscles in his thighs flexed involuntarily. His hand on Will’s back was now on his neck, trying to push him down.

Will tightened his grip and upped the pace a little. But only a little, making it even more unbearable.

His other hand was close to the cleft of Jack’s arse, seeking to find his finger a place to casually dip in.

Will wasn‘t going to let Jack off that easily.

“What was it again?”

Trying hard not to fuck Will’s hand too obviously, in an attempt to keep it around his cock, Jack was panting slightly.

“William, you had an open invitation…”

The finger sliding between his arse cheeks didn’t help much to keep his train of thought on track.

“Now, please,  _use_  it.” He was whining now? Oh, yes, he would whine to have his heat doused. “Now.” The last part was merely a mewl instead of the harsh order it was meant to be, as he helplessly thrust into Will’s hand again.

Will’s finger was pressing against Jack’s anus and for a moment Jack didn’t know if he wanted to jerk his hips towards Will’s hand around his erection or back against the finger.

Decidedly that was what Will had been going for, since he leaned down to suck on the tip of the dripping cock in heartfelt farewell and lifted his hands from their doings for the sake of supporting himself. He awkwardly manoeuvred himself to kneel between Jack’s legs. Will didn’t want to stop suckling on the engorged length so he looked at Jack for help.

Understanding the look in Will‘s eyes, Jack brought his hands to Will’s hair and carefully but fixedly tugged his head up.

Will tried escaping the hold for one more kiss, just one little kiss to the tip, but Jack tugged his hair again, not so gently.

“No, Will. Not now.” Jack could hardly speak from the sight of his Will acting like this. Obsessed and with his eyes glinting with obscenity.

Will closed his eyes and let out a frustrated sob mixed with the deep sigh of contentment that he felt with Jack’s hands holding his head. He was torn with wanting to go back to his task on his lovers cock, and wanting to sheathe his own throbbing arousal into Jack. Luckily Jack was always around to make these decisions for him.

Jack tugged Will’s hair again and he opened his eyes. Will straightened himself, taking support from Jack’s knees and put his hand on Jack’s cock leisurely, like he wouldn’t notice his compromise.

Jack smirked at the hand and at Will’s gaze darting around the bed and the nightstands as if he was looking for something.

Jack turned to reach to his left, to open a drawer and blindly fumbled through it.

The only item that was supposed to be there, was right where it was ordered, and Jack pulled out a small bottle of lube. He was briefly amused looking at the heart-shaped vial that said ‘Aphrodite’s Lovers’. The hotel workers had definitely gotten the clue.

“Here you go, love.” He gave the bottle to Will, who now had to use both his hands to open it. Not sure what to do with his hands effectively occupied elsewhere, but being the kind that is quick on their feet, Will clasped his teeth around the cork and twisted the bottle. He spit the cork to the floor and handed the vial back to Jack with a grin.

“You get to do the honours.”

Jack yanked Will down and lifted himself up to a searing kiss.

He fell back to the pillows and admired Will‘s whole kneeling appearance adoringly.

“You really are one of a kind, William.”

Jack’s cock was aching terribly, and by the looks of it, Will wasn’t very comfortable with his either.

Jack took Will’s free hand and poured some of the scented oil on his palm, then some on his own and tossed the half empty bottle somewhere to his left. It sounded like it might have reached the drawer. Maybe not. It didn’t matter.

The first touch of Jack’s hand sent shivers all over Will’s body. His cock was soon coated with the oil and his own pre-cum that had been dripping down his shaft during his disport with his toy.

Jack took the time to rub his middle finger on Will‘s perineum, his other fingers and palm caressing the heavy hanging balls.

Watching Will’s face to see every expression ensued, Jack moaned almost inaudibly with the sounds coming from Will. It was beautiful to see the man unwinding and becoming more himself again.

He took Will’s hand and started spreading the oil from the palm to Will’s fingers.

Letting go of Will’s hand, Jack raised his other hand to grab the back of Will’s head to make him look Jack into his eyes. “As you have so conveniently just recently volunteered, you will be given straight orders, by your good Captain. That you must obey. Without questions.”

Jack’s voice was harsh but his eyes betrayed him, looking at Will with playfulness and love.

“Fuck me Will.” His tone had turned serious. “I need it, right now, and you need it even more, so let it go. Give it to me.”

To Will it was obvious that Jack wasn’t talking only about the physical side. The day so far hadn’t been stressful only for Will, but Jack was almost as lost too.

Will leaned forward for a lust-filled kiss that told both men they had a full understanding. Coming up from the kiss, he adjusted the pillows from behind to under his lover and slid his un-oiled hand along Jack’s thigh, the other hand finding the awaiting hole again.

Jack gasped from the sudden feeling of Will’s finger pressing into him with one fluid motion. The lubrication allowed Will to act quickly without fear of hurting Jack.

“More.” Jack wasn’t going to wait for Will to pause for Jack to get adjusted.

Will added another finger and started to move them.

“No. More.” Jack reached to push Will’s hand off to signal that it was enough with the fingers.

The tight ring of muscles gave way for Will’s member as Will was determined to give Jack what he wanted. Will slowly pushed in until he was fully sheathed inside Jack.

Jack was clutching Will’s hips and pushing against Will with an equal force, the feeling of Will’s cock spreading him open making him pant for gasps of air. The physical feeling and the emotional charge with it made him feel alive after the feeling of disassociation he had been enduring the whole morning with.

He opened his eyes and once again made Will look at him. “William. Do us a favour and fuck me through this bed. I’m serious, luv.

The honest plea made Will whimper as it sent sparks of delight through him. He pulled out and back in tentatively to prevent hurting either of them, and with a nod and a grunt he started pushing hard into Jack, lifting his hips up to get deeper from the kneeling position.

Jack had his prostate brushed over with every thrust and he was sucking breath between his teeth with every sharp, pleasurable shock from it. He wrapped his pulsing cock in his hand and started to stroke it hard towards his release.

“Will…oh…Will…harder.” The sound wasn’t more than a series of moans, but Will took it as an order, like a good sailorman.

In an instant Will halted his movements and pulled out of Jack, who would have opposed if Will hadn’t almost simultaneously been ripping the pillows from under the heated body and turning Jack to lay more to his right side. After some hasty arranging of legs, Will harshly buried his painfully hard shaft back into the welcoming entrance.

He was kneeling on one knee, closely resembling a sprinter preparing to start a race, to get better leverage and more force.

Jack was clinging to the sheets on the bed in a moment of ecstatic realization that it was, absolutely, going to be a rough ride. The lad had, without a doubt, understood him.

“Yes, Will, oh gods, it’s good.”

With his other hand clenching Jack’s hip and the other on his thigh, Will rushed to reach an untamed pace, pounding into the sweet tightness that Jack eagerly provided. He forced his eyes open to look at his lover and saw as well as felt him writhing uncontrolled, moaning with pleasure, his hand wrapped around his arousal again.

The sight and the sounds were too much and Will felt his sacks tensing up, promising an instant relief, and he joined his hand with Jack’s around his cock. Stiffening to a stop after a few final, brutal thrusts Will came almost violently.

He wailed incoherently when his seed spilled into the man under him, feeling Jack’s heat convulsing around Will, dragging the last drop out of him.

Jack felt Will’s hand on his own and the cock pounding in him tensing, and the sensation of those little things on top of the sheer ravishment he had lost himself into, sent the last needed impulses through his spinal cord. In his orgiastic state, he uttered random words between his moaning before completely losing the ability to speak.

“Perfect. Will.“

Tossing his head back he welcomed the fire, and with the last thrusts Will mustered, Jack didn’t have time to breath in before the next flash of pleasure that left him ejaculating ruthlessly, howling his pleasure soundlessly with his back arched.

Will slumped on Jack completely boneless. Unable to move, he just laid there with a wide satisfied smirk welded on his face. He could just fall asleep right here. Yes, that would be nice.

Jack stirring under him brought Will from the near-sleep-experience and made him slouch off, ending up reposing his spent form only half on top of Jack.

Gathering all the strength that was left in his spent body, Jack managed to shove Will over and drape himself on him instead.

After a few deep breaths he lift his head to look at Will. He wanted to talk.

“Oi, lad…”

Will closed his eyes tighter.

“William.”

“What, Jack.?” Just a tiny speck of irritation could be detected from his tone.

Jack smirked with mirth at getting the man’s attention and ended up with a goofy chuckle.

“Nothing. It’s just that…One day you’ll kill me, no matter what’s in me drink.”

Will opened his eyes and looked down the best he could to see the man resting against him, wrapping his arms around his loved one for a tight embrace and forced Jack’s head down against his chest. “That seems to be impossible. God knows I’ve tried… Can I sleep now?”

Listening to the air passing in Will’s lungs, since there wasn’t a heartbeat to listen to, Jack felt tremendous relief running through him.

Will was definitely back to himself. The effects of the ordeal which Jack had had to put the man through to have time for some last minute arrangements, had worn off, drained from him, just as planned.

He squirmed out from the embrace to lay next to Will, easing his arm under the exhausted man’s head.

Jack, if he had had any second thoughts during the time he had been skilfully pulling the strings for the past decade, aiming for this day, was now certain it had been done right.

The lad could sleep the edge off of his fatigue before they had to get going.

It had been a trying day for Will so far, and Jack could not help but feel a bit of shame for making him go through all that. But in the end it was for a good cause.

He had been known to conjure up elaborate and marvellous and often close to impossible surprises over the years, but this one would definitely top them all. In fact, this one could even be the one that would later be considered as the definition of surprise.


	4. Chapter 4

Startling abruptly from being half asleep Jack shot a panicked glance at the clock on the nightstand. It would be the end of the world as they knew it if they overslept. In a lifetime or two, where time usually had no meaning what so ever, it was today that had to be lived by the second.

Luckily it had only been a few minutes of dozing.

Jack looked down on himself to see the sleeping man nuzzled against his side, wrapped around him like a koala hanging from an eucalyptus tree. He reached out his fingers to touch Will’s lips slightly, and received the reaction he was going for when Will licked his lips out of reflex. Jack moved his fingers, hovering them over Will’s nose up between his brows and managed to get the man to wrinkle his nose from the tickle. A gentle poke of a finger between Will’s eyes had the man turn to his other side and Jack got his arm released.   
  
He had to get up. It wouldn’t do to drift back to sleep, so he decided to find something to do. Something that didn’t require much in the fields of concentration. Having his thoughts constantly turning to re-checking that everything that was supposed to be done, was really done, and to the growing anticipation, now and then stopping to marvel at the interesting feeling of what was definitely fear nagging somewhere in the crevices of his brain, didn’t leave much room for intelligent activities.

The television. Yes. That would suffice.

Jack got up, grabbed the coverlet from the floor where he’d carefully placed it before tumbling on the bed, wrapped it around his shoulders and walked around the bed to pull the covers over Will’s relaxed form, careful not to stir him out of his slumber. Still he couldn’t resist sweeping the unruly curl of hair out of his face. “Wake up rested, Will. ‘S going to be a long day yet.”

 

Slouching himself on the recliner in front of the television, Jack flicked through the channels half-mindedly, stopping at a classics movie channel showing ’Highlander’.

Nice bloke that Connor, perhaps a little jumpy, maybe even slightly paranoid, but pots, kettles, who isn’t? It had bored Jack near an impossible death when the two blacksmiths hit it off and couldn’t stop talking about the craft for hours… Right up untill Connor had the sudden silly notion of something along the lines of ‘There can only be one,’ and was daft enough to draw his sword on Jack. Then again it could have been something he said…maybe. Jack and Will had come to the conclusion that the man needed a bit of practice in the footwork department but had a good sword arm nevertheless. Had to, wielding that huge thing around.

Letting his mind wander around the memory of the encounter, Jack occasionally snickered at the brutal happenings on the screen and bided his time untill the end credits started to roll. It was time to wake Will up.

Walking back to the bedroom, Jack smiled warmly at the sight sprawled on the bed. Everything was just like he’d left it, only the insubordinate curl was crossing Will’s face again. To the day Jack hadn’t yet caught the curl in action but was determined to find out all about its stealthy movements. Uncanny ability for simple hair to sneak about like that.

Jack crouched next to the bed at the same level as Will. Waking the lad up was serious business and even if Jack‘s life wasn‘t in any direct danger, a black eye was never that pretty to look at. It was safe to say that Will had a tendency to wake up with a start. A whole history around pirates and pirate vessels can do that to a man. Saved their lives a few times, it did, back then.

Blowing the amazing curl away, Jack put his hand on Will’s upper arm gently and with tiny rubs of his thumb began to open the curtains that Hypnos had veiled over Will.

Whispering, Jack started a ramble of words, designed to chase away any deity, were it Hypnos or his brother. “Luv, wake up, time to get the rest of the day sorted out, and you can’t do that all lying and lingering around.”

The thumb pushed gradually harder. “Well, you could, if this was a normal day, but as it happens, it is not, and I can’t come lie there next to you, thus, it’s not at all fair.“

Jack took notice of Will’s eyes moving under their lids and talked a little louder.

“Which means you need to wake up.”

Will blinked a little so Jack talked Will out of it the rest of the way. “Seriously now, open your eyes and take a deep breath and there you go, all wakey-wakey for Jackie.”

Will opened his eyes and was greeted with a wide smile and a soft pat on his shoulder.

“Where are we? I had this dream where there were hundreds of people and they all wanted to talk to me. You weren’t there, which was odd…” Will’s voice trailed off while he took in the surroundings and came about from his disorientation. “Oh, right. That’s where. Why did you wake me? Is everything alright?”

Stroking Will’s arm for assurance, Jack gave a quick kiss on the tip of Will’s nose in an appreciation for the concern. ”Everything’s just peachy, no worries.” He stood up and yanked the cover off Will. ”Now, up with you and to the shower. Need you nice and clean in a few hours.”

Noticing Will’s lips threateningly curling to form a ‘Why?’, Jack dropped the coverlet he’d been using as a cloak, grabbed Will’s legs, turned the man and dropped his feet to the floor in one firm motion. “No questions. I’ll explain everything when we get to that.”

Suspicious, but still too drowsy to object, Will got up and glared daggers at Jack.

“Fine, then.”

Jack squeezed himself between the bed and Will’s back and pushed him forward, towards the bathroom. “Fine, then. Good. Go. Shower. I promise you oranges by the time you come out.”

The door almost hit his nose when Will pushed it shut.

 

 

While Will was showering, Jack reached for the phone on the nightstand and called room service.

“Yes, hello, this is room 305. Could you have the items delivered here, pronto, thank you. And the food. Don‘t forget the food. Especially, what ever you do, don‘t forget the oranges. I promised oranges and if there ain’t any, the hellion is sure to eat me by the looks of it.”

With that, Jack hung up and walked over to the closet in the room. He grabbed a coat from the rack, running his fingers along a seam appreciatively. “Amazing, the tailors in Singapore.” There was a touch of nostalgia in his low voice. Not that this particular frock coat was made anywhere near Singapore, but the original one, the one that had been used to model this one, was. No, this one was actually delivered to a local postal office and picked up this very morning. It came with a familiar looking, though terribly starchy feeling sash.

He eased the coat on and tied it with his sash, wearing nothing else.

With a knock coming from the door, he grabbed the blue fedora from the floor and placed it on his head.

  
  
  
Will came out from the bathroom, tying a towel around his waist. The towel dropped along with his jaw at the sight of two sets of suits neatly arranged on coat hangers hanging from a rack.

On the table there were two boxes that apparently contained some sort of flowers, and two empty miniature bottles of dark rum.

On the recliner was Jack, leg spread over the arm rest with a disturbingly, eerily familiar looking jacket and sash on, eating peanuts from a small glass bowl, the fedora hat dangling from his foot.

Coming to from the shock of the odd sight, Will got the control of his vocal cords back. The peculiar sets of clothing  _did,_ at least in someway, explain why Jack had insisted on staying at the hotel in the first place, but then again, Jack could have just bought them while they were on shore.

Fighting to keep the exasperation out of his tone, Will inhaled slowly before talking.

“What now then Jack? I thought we were going home.”

Jack continued with eating the peanuts, checking each one swiftly but carefully before devouring it.

“’S a surprise.” His voice was clear indication that it should be obvious. “Now, that white one is for you, and that red shirt to go along with it.”

He was pointing at the items as he was addressing them.

“My turn with the shower. As much as I hate washing your sweet scent off me right now, I can’t be smelling of lust where we’re going.”

He kicked the fedora to where ever it happened to land, glanced at the small bowl and offered it to Will. “Peanut?”

Will seemed averse, so Jack put the bowl down to the table. “Fine, so they’re here if you want some.” His plan had now commenced. All he had to do was try to keep calm and try not to spoil it before time.

“No, Jack, goddamned peanuts? Are you kidding me?” Will lost the fight against his tone as he was stunned by the overwhelming absurdity of it all. He crossed his arms on his chest, pursed his lips and glared at Jack. The day hadn’t so far been what he had been expecting it to be after ten years at sea, and Jack‘s insistence on Will doing the stupid interview, and now this oddity right here was just getting over the line.

Jack rose from the chair and walked over to fuming Will. Closing his arms around the naked, still a bit damp man, he kissed the tight line of lips softly, repeating the motion until they relaxed and returned the kiss.

“Will.” Jack was looking him straight in the eyes, his voice as soft as the kisses had been, filled with assurance. “Do you trust me?”

Will didn’t have to think for the answer as it came to him instantly even if he was still highly annoyed. “With my heart.”

Jack cleared his throat from being suddenly moved by the words. They couldn’t be more true. This was exactly why he was doing what he was doing.

“Good. Well, then if you’d be so kind and wear these clothes and the décor along with them, and I promise you, on pain of death, you won’t regret it. Savvy?”

Jack stepped away from Will, took off what little clothes he had on, handed them to Will and went to the bathroom. He came back to peek his head out the door to plead once more with the stubborn man. “Please? We don’t have much time.”

Shaking his head, not believing he was doing this, Will tossed Jack’s clothes on the recliner and took the clothes hanging on the rack.

“This better be good, Jack Sparrow.”

But, then again, if Jack was dragging the pain of death into the conversation these days, it meant something.

And now he could hear the bloody pirate laughing quietly in the bathroom.

 

Jack looked in the mirror, shuddering from the accidental sight of a razor placed neatly to the side table of the sink. Once, a long time ago, Jack had had the misfortune of having to have his face, and head, shaved, completely, and he had felt  _naked_ beyond belief. After that, everything reminding him of that incident made him uneasy. Terrible, terrible feeling it was indeed. At least after that, he knew better than to wager important things on foolish bets and a harsh lesson it was.

He stepped into the shower.

The shower was the latest model, obviously, the kind that saves water by only releasing a shower when there was something in the reach of the sensors, buttons embedded to the wall to control the heat of the water. Jack was shortly wondering how come Will hadn’t had any trouble with it, but knowing that Will was the one with the technical expertise, he didn’t ponder it for long.

The man had an amazing ability to understand the function and the basics of any equipment brought to him, were it electronics or hardware. At least when he wasn’t fed up and tense and anxious up to his gills…

Everything in this hotel suite was new and mostly remotely controlled. The luxury of the suite had stunned Jack enough to have him struggling to keep his casual behaviour towards it all. It’s not that easy to see a television rising out of nowhere for the first time, and make it seem like it’s something you’ve seen so much of, you’re already bored by it.

After the bell boy left, he had spent a good while ogling at the thing with Will.

The production company of “Good Morning World” had kindly agreed to arrange delivery and pay for everything that Captain William Turner’s ‘manager’ had dared to ask for, including the running bill for the room service of the hotel, and the minibar, so Jack thought he had made a fairly good deal.

The only thing they were paying for themselves were the cabs they needed for transportation and even with that, Jack felt it was still coming from the producers’ pockets since they had, on top of everything, paid a handsome fee for Will for appearing on the show. That fee was safely deposited into Will’s own bank account of which the man was oblivious about himself. Well, he should be, as the account was three hours old.

There was also the fact that he had had to find a way to get out of Will’s sight today for an hour or three, so arranging the interview behind Will’s back had been a great opportunity for that. Jack felt blessed about not being jammed in traffic, especially by the time when he was still coming back to the hotel to tuck some stuff away from sight, and still had to get to the café on time.

Being late would have probably raised some questions, and Jack just wouldn’t have had the plausible answers.

The questions if Jack had missed something of the interview were genuine, since the latest hi-tech palm-computer had been acting up, and he had actually missed some part of it. Even if multitasking was the word of the day, trying to watch TV and talking with a clerk at the Municipal Register Court at the same time was damn near impossible.

Jack couldn’t wait to get back to the  _Dutchman_ , and maybe tempt Will to go to the  _Pearl_  for a few days, just the two of them. But first things first. He stepped out of the shower.

 

 

Jack kept checking the clock on the wall frequently as he was putting his clothes on.

Looking in the mirror he straightened the bowtie under his chin and turned to see how Will was coming along.

“No, no!…no. You’re going to strangle yourself with that, let me.”

He batted Will’s hands away from a perfectly decent tie knot to have something to do that needed even a bit of concentration. Otherwise he’d just start banging his head against the wall to focus as his thoughts ran in circles, occasionally bumping to each other.

He tied the tie for Will with nimble fingers and stood back to look at the result.

With the white tuxedo, trousers and tie, dried-blood-red shirt and shoes matching the colours, he was indeed an impressive sight.

Jack reached his hand to tuck a wonder-curl of Will’s hair that had miraculously escaped from the band holding it back, behind his ear.

Jack had to swallow hard to stop himself from choking on the lump in his throat that had been there unwontedly often today. “You look gorgeous.”

The whisper made shivers run down Will’s spine and he somehow managed to adjust to the blossoming idea that what ever this weirdness was, something good was bound to come from it. Jack had been acting strangely, even for Jack, and although Will was certain that he was quite capable of brushing his own hair, opening his own bottles and peeling his own oranges, the concern and care Jack kept lavishing on him was touching.

Prying his eyes off the glorious sight, Jack grabbed the flower box from the table. “Now, something blue.”

Jack took the blue rose and pinned it to Will’s tuxedo’s front pocket. “There. That’s fine…then, something old…”

He looked around to find something suitable. The only things old were Jack’s coat and sash, and for some reason he didn’t see how to fit them to the look. And if the thought process wasn’t distressing enough, he was smacked with the rapid realization that even those weren't old. Focus.

 

He shrugged to dismiss the thought and went on.

“Well, I’m going to be there, and I’m old, so that’ll have to do.” He stopped at the thought for a moment and realized something quite astonishing. “You’re really old too, so that part is definitely covered.”

Will was trying to remember what this reminded him of, but the memory escaped him every time he tried to grasp it. He found it easier to shut up and let Jack go on with his doings and ask questions later. Right now he wouldn’t get answers anyway, so he just sighed.

Jack noticed the sigh and grinned. Everything was going according to plan, and so far it had been easier than he had dared to think.

“Something borrowed.” Jack glanced at the peanut bowl as they were just about the only thing in the room that weren‘t their own, and were discreetly portable, but discarded the idea when another one popped to his mind.

He untied the only charm from his hair he hadn’t untied before in attempt to convincingly look like he belonged here. Then he tied the small, round blue and silver plate to Will’s hair behind his head. Looking at the ornament in its place, he gave a laugh at his own asininity. The plate was not only borrowed now, it was blue and quite old.

Never mind. It could only be better with double of everything.

With a nod, Jack accepted the appearance of his lover to be sufficient for the occasion and walked to the elaborate book shelf in the room. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and braced himself with a deep breath. Then he opened a drawer and pulled out a small stack of papers.

The stare he felt piercing the side of his head while he stepped to the sofa was like an electric arc.

“Come, sit down.” Jack sat down and patted the seat next to him.

Will sat next to Jack and looked at the dubious papers quizzically. “What are those?”

Jack cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “These, my dear William, are our lives, right here, black on white.” Jack drummed his fingers over the stack of papers.

Will was perplexed and waited for an explanation. Asking questions would probably be futile.

Jack took the first paper on the stack in his hand and studied it before turning towards Will. “William Turner…You seem to be twenty-six years old. Your father, William Turner Senior, died in 1992, at the age of seventy-eight and your mother was seventy-six when she passed away three years after Bill. You were born in England, in the respected town of Portsmouth…How’s about that?”

Will had turned completely mute. He could open and close his mouth repeatedly, so the basics were intact, but no sounds came out.

Deciding that the silence was, in fact, a good thing, Jack continued, “And me, well, let’s see…Oh, they must have heard me wrong, that can’t be right…” He was interrupted by Will who miraculously had found his voice again.

“Jack Sparrow.” The regained voice now resembled thunder, and made Jack wince.

“Will, wait. I can explain.”

“What is this charade Jack? Portsmouth? My mother? How dare you?”

Jack had expected an outburst over the forged papers, but this was ridiculous. Will looked like he was ready to strangle Jack. Lot of good that would do even if he did, but the whole idea was disagreeable. More talking was in the essence here.

“How was I supposed to get your authentic birth certificate? Or mine, since I highly doubt there has ever even been one?”

Jack waved his hand through the air to indicate that all papers there had ever been regarding either one of their identities had been long gone. “And if I did, what good would it do anyway, huh? Born in the late 18th century? That would be convincing at the bank.”

Stunned, trying to grasp the meaning of the words bubbling from the mouth of the man who had just few moments ago begged for Will’s trust, Will took a second to fortify that trust as it was on the brink of failing. “Birth certificate?”

Jack was pleased. Now they were on the same page again and Will would listen.

“Yes, you’re going to need one, as well as these other papers.”

He grabbed the rest of the papers from the table and started piling them onto Will’s lap.

“Your birth certificate, your bank account details, your social security number and such…” Lastly Jack placed a small booklet on top of them.

“Your passport.”

With that, Jack couldn’t help but flinch and drop the booklet as if it burned. If he failed with the plan to get Will on land more, that would be useless. But it was there, so Jack would just have to get it right.

“Will, I got me a birth certificate too, and before today I never needed one. It’s just…it’s only so far you can go with the internet and all the other gadgets. Sometimes you need real paper in this world.”

Will hadn‘t been able to follow Jack‘s train of thought for a while now, so he decided to start with the simple things.

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you. But first, please, put those papers in your pocket. I want to make sure you have them with you.”

Like a robot, Will did what he was told. He would have probably jumped off the balcony if someone had told him so. Right about now he’d do anything for an explanation. Every bit of the patience he had felt before was simply gone.

Jack watched keenly at the papers disappearing into the folds of Will’s tuxedo’s pocket.

Now everything was ready. There was only one more thing Jack had to do before they were good to go.

He had to explain.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack had excused himself in order to relieve himself immediately after the papers had safely made it into Will’s pocket. In another words he’d gone and tugged off, then replaced the ribbon tying his hair back loosely, splashed copious amounts of cold water on his face, damned the ruffles on the front of his shirt to seven hells for getting wet from the spilled water, cursed himself right along with the ruffles for being a coward and after heftily scolding himself for such behaviour he’d sturdily reminded himself of who he was, and had actually managed to prepare to throw himself to the lion.   
  
The lion attacked the instant Jack was back to the living room.   
“We’re not going to a casino, I hope. I’d hate to leave you behind again.” Will’s voice trailed from its initial graveness to one barely covering his smirk.   
  
“No. We‘re not. Besides it was your idea with the James Bond-theme to begin with. I only played along.” Jack swayed his way past the beast to the rack where the rest of his outfit was hanging and held his arms out so Will could help him with the cufflinks of his shirt.   
  
Will laughed softly at the mock-indignant tone.“Right, so you spent a fortune and nearly two weeks gambling, alone, only because you were humouring me?”

  
Watching Will fiddle with the silver clasps, instead of sneering something to retort, though it was tempting, Jack found the words to start his divulgation with.   
“D’you remember the night when you told me I should go and live my life?” The temperature in the room dropped several degrees the instant he finished the sentence.

  
That night had been a living nightmare. The memory of Will telling Jack to leave, to live without him, to go and have a normal life still made Jack shudder and raise the old resistance in him. The thought of a life somewhere without his William had brought a burning-cold hand creeping under his rib cage, squelching his heart. The feeling was still fresh after a decade.   
  
They had fought and shouted all night, both the captains practically sprouting roots to stand behind their words and forgetting everything and everyone around them. The crew of the Dutchman had wisely stayed out of their way, every last one of them nowhere to be seen untill the storm had passed.   
Will had been insisting that Jack was good for more than what he had, more than him, deserved something much more better. He’d tried to raise such fury in Jack that he would just leave at the next port and not look back. It was for his own good.   
  
Will had been terrified of the thought of it actually happening and wishing for it with all his being. Only the best for Jack, and he thought he knew what the best for him was. Living like this wasn’t freedom. Freedom was out there, somewhere. Somewhere, where people could walk on dry land as they wished. That’s how the day and age worked.   
  
In his corner, Jack had tried to explain that he was bound to the sea just as much as Will was, had been since the day he was born. It was his calling, and not only that, but would Will seriously expect a pirate to give up his treasure for something as trifling as a life at land? It was such a clichéd oxymoron right from the beginning up until the end anyway. A pirate on land, hah! What sort of a meagre life would it be anyway, surrounded with landlubbers who had no knowledge of an adventure of any kind? And to top that, the life on land had this gigantic fault in it; it didn’t contain Will. He could never be happy anywhere else but where he already was. Happily.   
  
Finally they had come to some fragile agreement, agreeing that Jack would inform Will immediately if his desires happened to change. It could hardly be described as an accord. More like two rabid foxes in heat.   
  
Right until the arrival at the next port where Jack had left the ship.   
  
When he came back they hadn’t touched the subject again, although Jack could smell it in the air sometimes when he was pacing across the deck of either one of their ships.   
  
Will of course thought it was because he wanted to leave, that he was staying there only with the shreds of some misplaced conscience holding him down with whatever guilt Jack had come to harbour.   
  
Jack knew it was because the world had shrunk into the size of a needlepoint, everywhere, and sometimes it troubled him. Simple as that.   
  
  
  
After an icy pause, which Will disguised as concentrating on the fastenings of Jack‘s sleeves, he looked up at Jack.   
“Yes. I remember.” The quiet whisper clearly indicated that it wasn’t one of Will’s more pleasant memories either.   
  
Trying to hold his bearings and keep to the course he had planned for the conversation, Jack reached for the cummerbund on the clothes rack, handed it to Will and turned around for girding his loins up. Literally and figuratively. He spoke tentatively from the corner of his mouth.   
“Then you might also remember me going ashore for a month, eh?”   
  
Will tugged the ends of the sash a little bit harder than was necessary, pulling a short groan and an ‘oof’ out of Jack before closing the clasp and answering flatly.   
“Yes, I do remember.”   
  
Wheeling Jack around by his shoulders to face him, Will had a nasty remark on his tongue, all ready to snap and lash out. It died in its tracks at the sight of Jack’s eyes, clouded over with something Will interpreted as sorrow.   
  
Jack wiped some invisible dirt off Will’s shoulder and continued with a casual tone.   
“That’s when I was talking with the producers, the director and the writers, and planning the schedule for all this.”   
  
Waiting for Will to process that chip of information, Jack took the black tailcoat off the rack, shook it out just for the hell of it and carefully enrobed himself.   
  
Will was still dumbfounded. “What writers? What are you talking about?”   
  
Jack felt a flutter of guilt in his brain for keeping this a secret for such a long time. So much so, that the contrition nearly made him tuck the tails of the tailcoat between his legs for good measure.   
Instead, he smiled nervously and ran his hands up and down Wills arms to appease the aggravation that appeared in the clench of Will jaw and, yes, there it was, right under Jack‘s hands; the tensing of Will‘s whole body, all readied to sprint to action if needed.   
“You know, luv, the movies? Pirates of the Caribbean? The ones telling the tale of one brave William Turner and some of that old knave Jack Sparrow’s. And some of Elizabeth’s…Someone had to write it down.”   
  
The ‘what?’ Will quipped was obviously rhetorical, so Jack waited again.   
  
Slowly, through the swooning feeling, it started to make some sense to Will, although there were still huge gaps in the explanation. This meant that he’d been on the wrong track all along with his suspicions about the origins of the detailed descriptions in the movies, and that pushed him out of balance.   
  
A slight shake of his head and a deep furrow on his brow accompanied the gasp in what the word came out. “Why?”   
  
Jack appeared so ruminant and fell silent at the question for such a long time that Will opened his mouth to ask it again. He closed it when Jack stroked his hand along Will’s arm and closed his hands around Will’s wrist, fingers rubbing soothing circles on his skin, smiling warily. No, not warily. Jack looked…shy.   
  
“I couldn’t think of a better way to tell you.”   
Jack had loved this man for centuries now. Loved passionately. Had, from since the first year or two he’d lived in denial, closing his eyes from the option that the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow might actually be a living, breathing creature that had a weakness. Those years were peppered with a few innocent moments, and later the few stolen moments that would have turned not so innocent, if Jack hadn’t had his soul in a twist at the thought of possibly infecting the young lad with what he was carrying.   
Jack had seen people die of the disease, and after accepting the thought of loving someone, allowing himself to fall under emotions that could get dangerous if anything went wrong, watching Will die because of Jack was a fate he’d avoid at any cost. The irony of it all was revealed later when it was obvious that Will had very probably been infected anyway, right from the beginning, just because of his own curiosity toward Jack.   
  
So, back in the days of insufficient medical information they had an understanding. Although Will went around understanding a lot less than Jack, it was Will who had demonstrably produced a child. A bastard child, later fathered by a gentleman adventurer. A child Will had decided never to meet to prevent further problems and possible hardship for Elizabeth. Jack had used all his negotiation skills to convince the captain of the Dutchman to go and be with his son for a day, under the guise that he was a distant relative.   
Jack never told Will how beautiful they had been on the beach that day, the father, mother and the son.   
  
Jack never told Will how he had sold his soul for the second time around to bargain with the gods, just in case the Dutchman needed a new captain after the visit. It had been a good deal, what with Will able to get his heart back and going on living, and Jack taking over the task and performing some additional duties he‘d rather not think about.   
  
After Will had come back onboard that evening, they had talked through the night. ‘‘Liam,’ he said his name was‘‘, Will had told Jack. ’It was incredible, Jack, I love him,’ he’d said, his face lit up from his excitement. Then he’d uttered the seal of all their destinies; ‘But I never want to see him again. Please, don’t ever make me go back.’ Jack never did. The deal he’d made was off and Jack had everything he had ever wanted.   
Will had not once wavered from his determination towards his decisions, nor wearied in his stance as the Captain of the Dead.   
  
Will had fought beside Jack through countless battles, through events unspeakable by any mortal, all the way to the days of renewed, renamed glory.   
  
In other words, not to diminish, but to simplify, Will had not once left Jack’s side in life or death, not in love or loss.   
This man was the only weakness Jack had ever truly recognized in himself, the only other  _real_  thing in his life, side by side with the Black Pearl. Will was the only thing that had made the world go around for him when he’d lost, retrieved, lost and retrieved the Pearl again.   
  
Even when Will was gone for his duties, or Jack was at some port, there was always only a heartbeat separating the men.   
  
Will was all Jack needed.   
  
The first time the thought had crossed Jack’s mind, he had closed his eyes to it. Not very probable for a man like Jack to think like that. Didn’t seem possible. It had been hard enough to accept the loving-part of it, making this here notion more than improbable to ever even occur to him.   
  
Yet it did, since when he opened his eyes again, the thought was still there, all shiny and bright and…beautiful. Just like it was right now. He would still sell his soul for the man. Although now the feeling was maybe stronger than ever.   
  
Jack swallowed the ‘And to give you something to remember me by,’ that had formed and nearly escaped his mouth, and raised his hand to cup Will’s face, his other hand drawing emphasis to his words in the air.   
“It’s not exactly how I wanted it to be, but ’s the closest I could get, what with all the restrictions they had to work around and all that. ”   
  
Pressing his forehead against Will’s, Jack went on in a tone that reflected long suppressed pain.   
“And I couldn’t tell them everything. You see Will, some things are between you and me and they’re meant to stay that way.”   
  
Jack closed the distance between their lips, smiled against the softness of Will’s and kissed him fondly, slowly, to capture the moment. Another moment only for them.   
Will returned the kiss shyly at first, afraid that he would break what ever spell it was that was making this happen.   
After eliciting a contented sigh from Will, Jack was ready for the rest of it. The temperature of the room had definitely risen again.   
  
“You see, I needed to make you realize that I’m never going to leave you, if I can still be the one making that choice.”   
He was still pressing their foreheads together, Jack holding his hand on the back of Will’s head to keep it like that, staring each other eye to eye.   
“I would never leave the brave, heroic, stubborn, silly, righteous, loyal, beautiful man that you are, and I want you to know it. Need you to really, truly understand, so that you don’t ever have to doubt me again.”   
  
He let go and stepped back to make Will look at him properly. To force Will to see his lover in all his glory and demise, the core being of him lacerated and bare, and to make Will take in every word. “Virtuous.” Jack added as an afterthought after tilting his head to accommodate the boiling pressure he felt in his temples. “Human.”   
Will stayed quiet, in awe of the myriad of feelings flickering on Jack’s face and in his voice, leaving the arena for Jack to go on with his monologue.   
  
“What would I be without my voice of reason? What would Captain Jack Sparrow be without you, hmm? Think about it.”   
Jack turned and took a few paces to press his forehead to the wall behind him for a moment. It wasn’t for dramatics.   
  
He’d been bottling this up for so long, it nearly swept his feet from under him now that it was all trying to get out in one breath. The wall felt wonderfully cool against his skin. “I love you, I love the Pearl and I love my life.” Jack stated, his hand rising to finger his beard braids, only to pinch around thin ether. He ended up thumbing his bowtie instead. “Those are the things I refuse to give up, and I know I continue having ’em only thanks to me possessive nature.“   
  
He turned around to face Will again and leaned his back to the wall.   
“I’m not bound by any law of man or gods…Not like you’re bound to the sea and the Dutchman…“   
  
Jack assured himself that his legs would carry and stepped to Will again.   
“So, William Turner.” Jack straightened himself to all his height. “Do you allow me to be bound to you, untill death do us apart, which is unlikely to happen, but if such a thing does happen that we get all tired of this and we actually want to die, and we do die, given that we can find a way to arrange such occurance?”   
It was amazing how easy it was to say it out loud. It had been quite some time now since Jack had let anything even remotely near the truth pass his lips towards the man standing in front of him, and that hadn’t diverged much from an outrageous lie. At least it didn’t, if everything went according to plan. Bloody gods and their demands of payment.   
  
Gathering both of Will’s hands to his own, Jack swallowed hard. Then he kneeled on one knee, staring at Will’s shoe in utter fascination of how detailed it suddenly seemed to be. Robbing his sense of sight of the beauty of the phenomenal veracity of the shoe, Jack cleared his throat and lifted his head, locking his gaze with Will.   
“Mister Turner, will you marry me?”   
  
Where Jack had buried it with great care, Will was sure his heart leaped and flipped. Were it in its original owner, it would have been in his mouth and down to his toes at the same time.   
Will was overwhelmed with all that had been revealed, he could hardly breath. He’d known for certain there was something going on during the past years, since Jack had decidedly been omitting some details about his time on land and his phone calls and other contacts, but this…All this would never, in a thousand years, have crossed Will’s mind.   
  
Battling the fog closing in on his brain, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into their rightful places, Will began to realize that Jack had just unravelled one of his biggest schemes, and handed his heart to Will on a silver plate for him to either take or discard it, once and for all.   
Feeling a bit more than a bit lightheaded, Will had the strangest feeling of hinges of a tiny door creaking as it opened a fraction somewhere inside him. Marvelling at the novelty of this part of him that he hadn’t even known was there, Will closed his eyes to feel it closer. His eyes flung open wide in astonishment when he recognized it. Then his eyes focused on the man kneeling before him.   
Judging by the look on Jack’s face, he was waiting for something. Something that acknowledged that Will had in fact heard and understood what had been said.   
  
“Yes.” There weren’t words big enough to do his answer justice, but the small, barely heard one made all the difference.   
  
Jack let out the air in his lungs he’d been holding and dipped his head down in blissful relief, unable to stop the chuckle that came with it.   
  
“What? Now?” Will suddenly remembered what the old, blue and borrowed stuff was all about and their clothes seemed suspiciously ceremonial now that Will had been given all the dots to connect and see the whole picture. He pulled Jack up to get to the same eyelevel. “And…where? How?” It occurred to him that they were, actually, both men. Not the most common sight at nuptials.   
  
Smiling brightly, Jack winked at Will, his hands pointing every which way as he wrapped his master plan up. “Yes, today. You’re here, I’m here, it just so happens that this city registers same-sex marriages, and it has all been arranged. That’s how.” Jack was so ecstatic by this going so well, he was shaky for an altogether different reason than he was a moment ago.   
He had to let out some of the gloat he felt for himself, or he would just  _burst_  from it.   
“Isn’t it a remarkable coincidence?”   
  
  
The smug grin on Jack’s face brought Will back to reality and erased any movement-impeding feelings of cautiousness from before. Will regained the control of his body, instantly using it to swoop Jack in for a hug.  
After the first rush of the joy of feeling the other there, so close, so very real, vouching to them both that this was really happening here and now, the brutal force melted to a gentle embrace, leaving both men leaning their heads against one another’s shoulder.   
  
Will closed his eyes and let Jack flow through him, all of it, everything Jack was at this very moment. He understood the smug grin that was Jack’s wont, since at times like this, Will had his own.   
There was something very important Jack had forgotten. He was dealing with-, actually, make that getting married to, Captain William Turner…Will Turner who shivered when Jack eased his hands under Will’s tuxedo and slowly caressed his back through the shirt only. Jack who responded to the involuntary reaction by flushing himself against Will and sighing deeply.   
  
Reluctantly Jack checked the time for the thousandth time for the day and peeled himself off Will.   
  
He coughed to subside the annoying lump that had again mysteriously crept into his throat before grabbing the tall hat from the bottom of the clothes rack, twirling it over for a round of approval and placing it on the top of his head with a tap. “How do I look?”   
  
His answer was slowly rising across Will’s face, starting as innocent little flecks on his cheeks and ears before spreading to a full blown blush.


	6. Chapter 6

In Will’s opinion Jack was easy on the eyes at any given moment. If he wasn’t, it was usually because Will was blinded by having his head tucked against Jack’s neck, thigh, hair, arm pit or any other part of the man’s physique, thus preventing him from giving an expert opinion of his appearance if asked.

  
Right now, by any scale, Jack looked like a memory from times before Technicolour, the effect being so strong that Will was instinctively looking around if there was a cane leaning against the wall somewhere to complete the picture. The effect shattered when Jack opened his mouth and instead of a flurry of subtitles, there was a voice coming out.

  
“Well? Say something, I promise you won’t hurt my feelings,” Jack leered and walked to the book shelf to get his own birth certificate and his money clip. Folding the paper, he turned to look at Will who still had said nothing. “Good? Bad? Appropriate?”

  
It wasn’t like Will had never seen Jack in fancy clothes before, he had indeed, but it had been such a long time ago. And this, well, this…  
“Appropriate, absolutely…Handsome, refined…Otherworldly, I could say.”

  
Markedly, Jack had developed a reflex for checking the time by now, so he flicked his eyes towards the clock again before putting the paper and the money into his inside pocket. “Oh, my. Thank you kind sir, you don’t look half that bad yourself.” He moved to the table, took the other blue rose from its box and fastened it to his breast pocket. Stepping gracefully back to Will, he placed his hand on Will’s elbow and gestured towards the door with his other hand and a gentlemanly bow.

  
“As I recall me saying before ‘gorgeous,’ I believe was the word used. I’d like to take this opportunity to add  _sublime_ and  _divine_ to the list of adjectives regarding the matter.” Jack grinned brightly. “Very describing, actually.”

  
A hand grabbed the door handle but before it was pushed, another hand was put on top of it.

  
“Will? Are you alright? Are you ready?” Jack was alarmed by the halt. A tiny speck of uncertainty was displayed in Will’s eyes, similar to the panic in them at the café.

  
Will took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, I‘m fine. Let’s go.” He pressed their hands to push the door open.

 

 

Sitting in the cab, Will felt safer than the ripple of fear had given him reason to anticipate. Then again, why wouldn’t he feel safe, Jack was right there, his fingers tapping an unheard tune on Will’s knee while he was looking at the life out there in the sunshine through the window.

  
Will wasn’t looking out. He stared at Jack.

  
The comfort Will got from Jack’s presence was enough to subdue the annoying feeling of being suffocated, yet something was wrong. Something was devastatingly wrong on a bedrock level, and it was all coming from Jack. It had been inside him when Will had let himself leap forward to feel him and it hadn’t left since. There was a nagging, gnawing feeling in the back of Will’s mind that was deaf to any direct demands of stepping up and identifying itself for an inspection.

  
  
  
Even if Will couldn’t read every emotion, nor did he care to, as he’d learned early on when starting out as the captain of the Dutchman where the usual emotion he encountered was desperation, sometimes, some things were more openly displayed and easier to interpret. He had actually tried to teach himself to ignore the ability, but it came with the job so there really was no escape from it. Will was usually floundering in a pool of pure, raw, harsh emotions that were shot out from people and too fundamental to be shunned away.

  
Even with Jack who was the master of hiding anything that might be worth hiding, there were still things Will could pick up now and then.

  
They’d spent centuries together, minus the long months Jack spent on shore every year to arrange his business relations and naturally the times it took for Will to tend to the dead. All in all, it could be said that they knew each other fairly well by now.

  
Generally Will knew exactly when Jack was planning something. When Jack was in a conniving mood Will could not get to the gist of it even if he tried and, frankly, he didn’t try very often. He liked the surprises. Even if and when Will wasn’t entirely sure why Jack was doing what he was doing and it was driving him half-mad at times, the dedication and pure, untarnished love Will had for Jack and his quirks had always had him hoping that Jack would never stop doing what it was he was doing. Needless to say, the time and the company had affected his thinking too.

  
When Jack had sold his soul for Will‘s sake, it had burned through Jack, clear as day, written all over him even though it had been in scribbling Will couldn‘t understand. What he did see and understand was the soul loosening, wriggling, preparing to leave if need be.

  
After that moment Will hadn’t spent a blink of an eye second guessing his feelings towards Jack as the thought of it actually happening, Jack’s very soul leaving, had been an agonizing one and the memory of it still tore Will’s insides when it crossed his mind. Will had never asked or said anything about it as he had a pretty good idea what had happened. He had, however, sworn to never let it happen again as long as he had some say in the matter. That was the main part of the reasons why he’d tried to chase Jack away on the physical level not so many years ago.

 

  
The dawning thought following a set pattern, assembling from what felt like ants scrambling around to perform a rehearsed designation caused Will’s hands clench into fists.

  
With all that had passed, was it any wonder that he could see the flailing of Jack’s soul as it started to unjoint on the edges, again, getting ready to leave the human form, again;  _when it was all happening again_?

  
It wasn’t the thought, but the recognition that killed something in Will

  
  
They spent the whole drive in complete silence, Jack tapping the rhythm, Will picking up new tones from every touch.

  
Will nearly slammed the car door into the side of a passing vehicle in his haste to face Jack. When he got to the sidewalk, he made a fleeting motion to the whole crew of the  _Dutchman_  standing in front of the building, shuffling their feet, chatting and smoking. When one of them noticed Will and nudged his crewmate at the presence of their captain, the ones who smoked quickly stumped their cigarettes out and the crew formed two orderly lines in front of the entrance to the building.

  
The crewmembers nodded, murmured ‘Captain’ and smiled briefly as Will passed them, but soon their faces turned to raised eyebrows and slack jaws expressing confusion as Will walked straight to one of them, not even looking at the rest.  
  
“Mr. Norrington, get inside and tell the people who are waiting that Captain Sparrow and I will be a little late for the occasion. Perhaps an hour. I trust you can handle the delay to not cause further complications.”

  
Will finally glanced over the rest of the crew, turning on his heels, nodding at each one of them. “The rest of you, it’ll be one hour and I expect you to be back on this spot. As you were gentlemen, ladies.”

  
The man who had been given direct orders was going to the door. “Oh, and Dennis, give them our apologies.” He watched as the man went inside, and was once again shocked how a simple gesture like a brief nod of acknowledgement could possibly show both of the man’s great grandparents’ features so precisely, and saw a sign that would prove useful in about two minutes. Very well then. There wasn’t a better option in sight; that would have to do.

  
He whirled around at the soft sound right beside his ear.

  
“May I inquire as to what the hell is it that your doing, William?”

  
Without another word, Will grabbed Jack by the hand and dragged him inside and towards the stick figure on the sign. The sound of the entrance door nearly falling off its hinges made Dennis and the clerk he was talking with look up startled, and barely catch a glimpse of something black before it was yanked forward and disappeared into the men’s room.

 

Will pushed Jack further into the small facility which appeared to hold two stalls with their doors hanging open, and two urinals on the opposite wall. Empty. Brilliant, at least he didn’t have to resort to violence. Just yet.

  
He locked the door and tried the handle before sucking his breath in and flogging Jack with his gaze. “You don’t get to leave.”

  
Slightly perplexed but with the hair in the back of his neck starting to rise with apprehension, Jack kept his tone casual, mocking, even. “Well, obviously. You just locked the door.”

  
Will stepped closer. The slight tilt of his head and the lack of emotion on his features made Jack feel a prickle of static.   
  
“Don’t you even try, Jack. Your soul. You don’t get to leave me.”

  
Spreading his hands on his sides in a surrendering manner, Jack took a step backwards.  
“I told you. I never would, if it was my choice to make.”

  
“Then whose is it, if not yours?”

  
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!   
Jack would have rolled his eyes in acrimony towards Lady Luck, but the chilling and, strangely enough, amused colour of Will’s voice stopped him from doing that.

  
“Moment of truth, then, huh... Oh, well, had to come some time, only I’d preferred we’d get to this after the ceremony. Even more preferably, after we got back home.”

  
Tilting his head more to the side, ignoring the obvious chance for a ‘why?‘ Will took another step which caused Jack to back up one.  
“Who’s making choices for you these days then, Jack?”

  
Not amusement. Loathing. The apparent extinction of expressions on Will’s face made it impossible to read the man.  
“The gods. Payment. Nothing ever came cheap, eh?” Jack tried smiling. It came forward in a grimace.

  
Will stopped in the middle of the step he was taking. “And what, pray tell, is it that you’re paying for?”

  
Pleading for Will to understand without having to explain, Jack brought his hands in front of him as if he was offering something. God, the voice of the man was cold enough to freeze the air around them. “Your wedding gift, Will. Your freedom, to be precise.”

  
  
“And what exactly am I to be freed of?”  
Will took the step he was in the middle of taking, again forcing Jack to retreat.

  
  
Bloody hell, if Jack wouldn’t have known better, he’d take Will for a complete idiot. Wasn’t it obvious? Clearly Jack wasn‘t ready for this kind of interrogation. It happened too fast. Too unexpectedly. “Your duties, of course!”

  
“That’s the deal then, your soul for my freedom?”

  
  
Jack glanced behind himself to determine how many steps he could take before being confined between the tiled wall and seemingly a calm behaving Will. Not good. More talking.  
“Well, to be honest, it’s not much of a deal as it is a plan as of yet… But they’ve always been after me soul, so I’d imagine that’s what they’ll be wanting this time around too.”

  
  
The face chiselled in stone cracked open to whisper in a voice Jack had never heard before.   
“There will be no deal, Jack. You’re mine.”

  
  
The wall was getting too close for comfort so Jack took a step aside, starting to circle Will. Jack blinked to rid the phantasm of a smithy only to have the phantasm switching to one of the deck of a ship. No. The only weapons he had were his words now. None of that reminiscing that had been there all day with the goddamned lump in his throat.

  
  
Jack wrung his explanatory-modus on with great effort.  
“Now, see, I was hoping you’d say that. Only I was hoping you’d say that a bit later in time, but it’s just as well now.“ He kept taking crossing steps and used his hands to pantomime the abstract conceptions to no avail. “If I happened to do this…  _exchange_  at sea, there wouldn’t be two ways about it, my soul would be yours to do with whatever you see best.”

  
That at least moved something in Will, if the twitch of his eye was any indicator. Dear Lord, how tired they both were.

  
  
“But there‘s always the possibility that they, them, gods, by now, can see through that, and demands of my demise at land will come into question.”  
 Will joined Jack‘s movement, matching his steps perfectly in time with Jack’s, calculating.

  
Jack stopped and moved a step ahead, away from straight alignment with Will to avoid his eyes.

“And, you don‘t have much say in that, do you?” He reached to stop Will too. When Will snatched his arm away from his reach, Jack stepped again and stood in his path. He put his hand on Will‘s chest. The static electricity snapping through his fingers on the contact made him flinch. Jack moved Will’s tie aside and started to twist a button on Will’s shirt in an attempt to keep from looking straight into the void that had replaced Will’s usually warm eyes.

“Listen to me Will,” Jack brought his other hand flat under Will’s collarbone. His gut wrenched when he felt the tension of Will’s pectoral muscle under the heel of his palm. “See, if you were to dispute the deal with the gods, claiming my soul belonged to you through marriage, there might be a chance to back out from it. A promise, an oath like I’m about to make, has to weigh something when made to the Captain of the  _Dutchman_ , don‘t you agree?” The button was suddenly loose from the shirt and in Jack’s hand.

  
The visible surge of emotions in Will that were let go from whatever brig they’d been held in until now, made Jack take several steps back before opening his mouth again. Better spill it all out. What choice did he have?  
  
“But, what with them being gods and doing godlike things, it’s a long shot to begin with. They’re on such high horses that the laws of man are rarely applicable for doing anything to quash their powers.” Jack glanced up and saw the brim of his hat. He took it off and placed it next to the wash basin. Would be a shame to break a hat like that.   
“That’s why I’m going to ask for complete nullification. Congenital annihilation, so to speak. ‘S a better choice than being thrown to Hell or what have you.”

  
Jack walked to one of the stalls, dropped the button into the toilet, flipped the lid of the toiled seat down, sat on it and waited.

 

The clamp that usually held Will’s composure together snapped and shattered, leaving Will to decide which issue he wanted to address first. Watching Jack sit heavily on the toilet seat and rub his face in frustration swept the remains of said composure under the nearest carpet and had Will grabbing a handful of the ruffles of Jack’s shirt.

He lifted the man up, turned and slammed him against the booth’s wall like a rag doll.

Pinning Jack between the wall and his body, burying his fingers into Jack’s shoulder through the layers of fabric, Will forced Jack’s eyes to meet his, pushing Jack’s chin up with the fistful of shirt.

  
“You…” That was all he could muster. He didn’t know if it was just tears falling down on his face or if perhaps he had passed to the point where people actually wept blood, nor did he care. This simply wasn’t happening. Jack had not just said what he had just said.

  
The clatter of a trash bin being knocked over provided sound effects for the crumbling of Jack’s resolution in turn. Raking a peeved glance over the hand holding him the best he could, he rolled his eyes in exasperation accompanied by a loathing faint smirk.  
“I think I’m getting too old for this.”

  
Will shook Jack by the shirt, mind inhumed under the haze of his anger overlapping with consuming despair to make Jack understand, given half a chance that anything was ever going to make any sense again. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? Well, I can let you in on a secret, Jack. You’re not.” Will wasn’t talking. He wasn’t discussing. He was stating facts wrapped in torment and Will wanted to throw them all at Jack. To rid himself of them. “You’re despicable, inconsiderate, childish and full of yourself. If this is your idea of a joke, I will find a way to kill you myself and have you known what Turner’s Locker has to offer.”

 

The loud knocking on the bathroom door had no effect what so ever on Will. His current mind-set was similar to that which had usually been reserved for fighting for his or Jack’s life. And that explained it in and of itself.   
“What?” The dry bark echoed from the tiles of the walls.

A muffled female voice penetrated the material in an inquiring manner.  
“Is everything alright in there?”

  
Will more felt than saw the nod Jack gave in agreement. He eased his grip a little and let his fingers relax on Jack’s shoulder.  
“Yes. Everything’s just splendid. Go away Anamaria, this is none of your concern.”

“Aye, Captain.”

  
Jack let out a breath of relief and fell slack against the wall at the sound of steps receding away from the door.

The only words Will found useful were already said. He would say them as many times as would be necessary. “You don’t get to leave. You don’t get to leave me alone.”

  
Jack tried another approach, though while going there, he knew, blankly, how empty his words were. “You won’t be alone for long, look at yourself!” Jack pointed to the mirror over the wash basin. “Anyone would pay ridiculously large amounts of anything to keep  _you_  company.”

Will pulled the collar of the shirt to bring Jack’s face close enough to kiss him. Or to bite his head off.   
  
“ _You_  said forever Jack. From the beginning, it was  _you_ who promised forever. You can not back out from  _that_ deal.” He let go of his prey when a wave of devastating exhaustion washed over him. He pressed the top of his head against Jack’s shoulder and tried talking sense into the floor. More chance for that than getting through to Jack when he’d got his barriers up.   
“Do you not know what you are to me? I have lost one heart, do you think I can bear to lose another and live?”

  
Jack felt the organ in question sinking somewhere to the vicinity of his knees, causing them to buckle a little. In its regular place he felt a horrifying contortion of comprehension.

He could not let it show, could not let it affect his own muddled mind right now. It was enough that Will had lost his touch of the fine art of rational thinking, probably at the same time he had wailed his first sounds as a babe, at least that’s what it seemed like to Jack when it came to questions to which the answer could be given with either by heart or reason. Yes, that’s good, hold on to that train of thought. Irritating enough to be used as a lifeline.

There was no way Jack would let his own heart lead the way on this one. Otherwise nothing would ever get accomplished. “Forever’s a long time, mate, you should be careful what you ask for.” The tremble in his voice went unnoticed by both men, as Will didn’t miss a beat before snapping his head up and retorting.

  
  
“You honestly think I don’t know that,  _mate.”_

  
The snarled, carefully pronounced words made Jack’s skin crawl. The fury would have been easy to live with, if it were hot like fury usually tended to be. This fury was cold and it wrapped itself around Jack in the form of Will and the congealed needles of every word scraped open the wounds Jack had carefully cauterized with his own scorching determination. Jack wanted to look away but Will’s eyes had him moored to time itself. Even breathing without permission seemed to be risking it.

  
Will placed his hands on either side of Jack’s head. If he had to do this, get to the bottom of it, he would not be able to stand on his own. “How many times have  _you_  looked into eternity, Jack Sparrow? How about through the eyes of a child, eh,  _mate_? How many souls, remarkably similar to your own, have you carried to the awaiting Forever?”

He had to lean his elbows on Jack’s shoulders for balance. “You think it‘s the people I fear.”

  
Will paused to examine Jack’s face and noticed him worrying his lower lip between his teeth nervously. “You‘re wrong. I’m not afraid of people, Jack. It‘s the fear itself, reeking out of everyone, everywhere!”

The sudden lap of tenderness at the sight of Jack looking so lost and vulnerable made Will brush his thumb over Jack’s lip before he gnawed a hole in it. Will had gotten through the barrier around Jack, yet Will didn’t feel like congratulating himself. The flame inside Jack was still fluttering.

  
No, it wasn’t fair. But neither was it fair for Jack to try and keep this all to himself. Will smiled dryly when he pressed his forehead against Jack’s. Maybe using his own disarming manners at him ten fold would help to make a sharp enough point. “You’re the only one without that fear. You are my Fountain of Youth, from whom I can drink the joy of living and delight in your flow of glee. I’d not be a shadow without you Jack Sparrow, I’d be darkness, inside and out.”

He let the feelings from Jack squirm around in his mind for a moment before moving away from him. It felt like Jack had understood. Even better than Will had hoped, as Jack’s soul had stopped fluttering and was anchoring back to its matrix as Will was watching.

Warmth spread to Will’s limbs when it was properly fastened again, making Will smile gently, his voice the total opposite of the snarl from before.  
“You’re not going to sell your soul. You understand it now, don’t you?”

  
  
Jack’s knees buckled. There was nothing little about it this time. There were horrors he had never even begun to imagine and Will had seen them all. If the ground would have been kind enough to open and swallow Jack, he would have considered it a blessing. Shame, even the most undignified shame did nothing to cover even a tiny corner of the regret Jack felt. How blind can one man be, for surely, to accomplish this kind of blindness, Jack should have had ten pairs of eyes.

“I-I…didn’t know.”

  
Will grabbed Jack from under his arms as he started to slide down against the wall.   
“I never told you.” He steered the limp form to sit on the toilet seat. “It was my burden to bear. I had no right to show you, I’m sorry Jack, please forgive me, I didn‘t know what else to do.” Jack’s glazed stare made Will’s fingers tingle unpleasantly. Maybe he should have tried projecting his ability with something less powerful.

  
Flabbergasted, brow risen to heights never reached before, Jack focused his eyes on Will who was crouched in front of him.

“Forgive you? What? Will, how are  _you_ ever going to be able to forgive  _me_?”

  
Will took Jack’s hands between his own and charily opened a valve on his newly discovered quality, and let a miniature rivulet of himself run into Jack.

Jack’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes. He was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat and the sound of his blood as it was rushing in his veins and roaring in his ears. He smiled blissfully when he opened his eyes again.  
“Oh, that’s how.”

  
The blissfulness went back and forth between the men replacing most of the morbid images in their brain. It made Will feel light headed and grin cheerily from the sudden change. That, and the understanding that this was not the time or the place for the irremissible conversation hanging over their heads. Right now all they could do was hide from it.

“Yes, that’s how. Besides I’d rather not turn into something terribly evil. I don’t really have the face for tentacles.”

  
Jack snorted and along with the tight knot in his chest unravelling at the infectuous sound of Will snickering, it became a chuckle. Watching Will’s shoulders loose their angularity when the fretfulness faded, Jack felt steady enough to stand up again. The only problem now was the fact that he didn’t want to.

Sitting here, having Will hold his hands was suddenly the essence of life and he didn’t want it to end. There were too many things to be said in the moment and not one was willing to form into words.

 

Finally, Will broke the stance by standing up, letting go of Jack’s hands and walking out of the stall to the wash basin. Jack made a whimpering sound.

“Jack, are you alright?” It was Will’s turn to be alarmed.

Jack stood up and followed Will.   
“I am, yes, I just got lost in my thoughts there for a second.”

Will looked suspicious. “Are you certain?”

Jack’s eyes flashed wickedly and Will barely had time to notice him stalking the distance between them before it was Will himself pressed to a wall in turn.

“Care to repeat that?”

“I said, ‘Are you certain?’”

Jack laughed joyfully. “Am I certain? Am I certain? I’ve spent the past ten years convincing myself that what I really want is to vanquish my desire for life for the sake of you being able to live, freely, and here I’m given a brain-full of brand new reasons to live for, most of them having to do with you, mind, and you ask if I’m certain if I‘m alright?”

He plastered himself over Will, crunching the flowers on their coats between them, pushing his hands behind Will’s back and under the hem of Will’s tuxedo. Jack murmured into Will’s hair.  
“Will, luv, if there’s anything I am certain of, it’s that I’m going to show you just how certain I am, not to mention how alright I am. Unfortunately, it certainly can’t be pounded in you here if I want to ascertain that you have no uncertainties about me being certain about anything ever again. In the mean time, I really, really need to feel you.”

Hands snaked further under Will’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, freeing his arms, and tossed it on top of the hat on the table while Jack kissed him fiercely alighting the warmth Will felt to new heights. Jack turned Will’s head with his forehead enough to have access to sucking his throat while he was working on the fastenings of Will’s trousers and lowering his underwear. When he finally reached out to palm Will’s cock, the heat of a fully hard cock against his skin was the most fabulous thing he’d ever felt. Such heat after the cold, it was invigorating.

Jack inhaled sharply while pressing his nose against Will’s neck and was momentarily dizzied by the smell of him combined with the feeling on his hand. It was all Will. He tucked his other hand under Will’s shirt to have it pressed between Will’s shoulder blade and the wall. How magnificent it was to be touching that skin.

Will was definitely on the same wavelength. His hands were trying to grab everything at once, anything to quench the frantic need to make sure Jack was there and was not going to vanish. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist to find the clasp of the sash and after crooking it open, he threw it unceremoniously on the floor. After managing that and the button and the zipper and the whole procedure for having one’s lovers prick in one’s hand, Will pulled Jack closer by his waist. He  _knew_  what Jack was talking about with the need to feel.

It was the first time in a hundred years when Will’s hand stroking Jack a few times was even nearly enough to have him spill his seed, but he was so very close, and when Jack’s turgid flesh met the smooth, hot skin of Will’s cock, Jack’s hand being moved to a better angle for Will’s sake and finally their hands wrapped around both their lengths, Jack pushed into their fists hard once and his hair-trigger went off.

He sucked the skin of Will’s neck between his teeth out of the pure need of doing that, rather than having any real impulse to muffle the keening sob that built deep in his chest and was let out raggedly. He honestly had no idea if he was actually crying, but if he was, it was out of the bare, naked love he felt for Will. When he could stop the sobs, he really, really needed to tell Will that.

He breathed Will’s scent in again, saddened and overjoyed at the same time at the thought that he may never get enough of him, would always be greedy for more of him, he dragged his nose along Will’s jaw line to his ear to share an important point of fact.

“I love you Will.”

Jack sank down on one knee, pushed Will’s hand out of the way and engulfed Will’s cock as deep as he could, swallowing, so the muscles in the back of his throat massaged the head, pressing his fingers unto the soft expanse between Will’s bollocks and arsehole, moving his thumb between the sacks gently and was rewarded with a hand grasping his hair tightly. When he felt the telltale jerk and the final blood rush tightening the already taut skin against his tongue, he pulled back a bit so as not to choke when Will came grunting in time with the pulse of his release.

 

Jack looked up at Will after letting Will’s seed slide down his throat and licking his lip, still not releasing the spent cock in his hand.  
“Will you still marry me?”

Will panted a few breaths, closed his eyes, swallowed, turned his head to look down to Jack and flung his eyes open.  
“Infinitely.”

A very familiar grin spread across Jack’s face, lighting his eyes with a gleam that, for a moment there, had been threatening to have been lost, perhaps forever.

“Then we’d better do something about this mess we’ve made.” Jack looked pointedly at the irregular splatter of his sperm on Will’s shirt.

   
Two rather dishevelled-looking men emerged from the men’s room, the one clad in white strolling over to the counter with a bright smile on his face and his right hand held out for a shake and a greeting, the other man, donned in black just in his wake, brow in a deep concentrated frown, a tall hat askew on his head held in place by sheer coincidence, a tail of his coat in one hand, the other stroking it as if to smooth wrinkles from it, and something, what appeared to be a cummerbund, casually thrown over his shoulder.

A closer inspection revealed large damp spots with tiny white fluffs of something that had to be from wet toilet paper on the white-clad man’s red shirt, and it was missing a button.

It seemed that the pair had had blue roses attached to their coats at some point, but now it was two pins with scrunched petals hanging from them.

The clerk of the Municipal Registry Court shook the offered hand and Will mentally sighed in relief for the hand being firm and warm.

“Good day, ma’am, I’m William Turner, nice to make your acquaintance. I take it you are to perform the ceremony for our marriage.”

After the greeting, the man wrapped his arm around the second man’s waist and made a silent surprised ‘Oh!’ when noticing the girdle on his shoulders.

The clerk shook the other hand that now reached out for a shake with a pleasant smile, apparently not at all disturbed by Mr. Turner plucking the sash and manoeuvring it under his coat and around him.   
  
“Jack Sparrow. You might remember me stopping by this morning. We‘re terribly sorry for the delay, and hope it hasn‘t been too much of an inconvenience for you or to anybody else it may pertain. Terribly, terribly sorry indeed.”

For some reason the man didn’t look like he was apologetic in the slightest.


	7. Chapter 7

AnaMaria had died a rather noble death for a pirate. After leaving the Black Pearl to Captain her own ship, she had been killed while fighting to the end against the East India Trading Company and the Royal Marines. In the end, she had lost her crew and was losing the battle, leading the marines to the armoury, stabbed a hole to one of the crates containing gunpowder and finally drawing her flintlock to ignite the explosion big enough to take everything she loved, and hated, with her. 

When Will had sailed the Dutchman to take them to their eternities, AnaMaria had stomped her way to the helm immediately after boarding, gripped the wheel and inquired as to the bearings of the next port from the sailors who stood there gaping at her.

Since then, she had been a part of the crew of the Dutchman. After Will’s father had chosen to move on, she’d been the First Mate.  Decidedly an obvious choice for a maid of honour...  
\-------------------------------

  
“A marriage is meant to be permanent. It is designed to unite two people, who wish to live together, who wish to create a fortune future and a home together.”

“Before these witnesses here, I ask you, Jack Sparrow, do you take this man, William Turner, to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to have him and hold him, in sickness and in health?”

“Aye.” Jack said in a strong voice. 

The crew roared and catcalled clapping their hands. 

Jack turned slightly to give the crew a lecherous grin.

The clerk quirked his eyebrow and hesitation showed on her face.   
Jack leaned forward to whisper;  “Means ‘yes‘…go on.” He rolled his wrist in the air to create some life to the woman.

The clerk gathered from her confusion and continued.

“Before these witnesses here, I ask you, William Turner, do you take this man, Jack Sparrow, to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to have him and hold him, in sickness and in health?” 

Will couldn’t help himself and a snicker sounded off from him. Must be the nerves.

“Aye.” He looked at Jack and snickered again.

  
He looked up to the clerk and his blushing appearance was nigh but one of a schoolboy who had been caught putting a stud on the teachers chair, and still thought it was the best goddamn joke in the universe.

The crew was laughing, roaring, stomping their feet and whistling in the backround.

Jack bit his lower lip hard trying not to join in the apparent hysteria and not let out the snort that was building in his throat. Nerves.

The clerk shook her head slightly and saw it best to just continue.  
“Now that you have both responded positively to the question asked, I pronounce you as spouses to each other as from this moment on.”

The clerk leaned slightly forward to refer to Jack. “Do you have rings to exchange?”

“Ah, yes.” 

He reached for his vest pocket and took out a small green box. “There’s one in your pocket too, luv.” He nodded to Will, who rolled his eyes at Jack. Of course there was, where else would it be.

Will reached to get the box out of his pocket and opened it, and what ever mania had still lingered in him, was swept away. 

A smooth, simple band made of what seemed to be platinum, was laying there on the padding. The ring was as chaste as Will himself, and he knew that there wouldn’t be anything more suitable for him to bind Jack to him with. 

Jack had opened his box too, and the ring laying there was stunning in it’s graceful, and yet sturdy beauty. It was a golden band that had circling swag engraved around it. And where the vines met, was a small black pearl planted there.   
It wasn’t anything glamorous, or lavish. It was different from any other jewellery Will had ever seen, and like his ring for Jack, this ring was perfect for its purpose.

The crew had fallen silent as the grave. This was not the time for bawdiness.

“You, Jack Sparrow. Take this ring from your husband, as a token of your marriage and his love.”

Will’s hands were shaking visibly, but he managed to go through the tasks of taking the ring off the box, taking Jack’s hand and slipping the ring on Jacks ring finger without dropping it. He stared at the hand in his, and even as it seemed a hint unfamiliar without the other rings on it, it was a hand he knew better than his own. And now it was his by the laws of man.

He lifted his eyes to meet Jack’s, and the face he met was filled with love.   
Will saw tears forming in the corners of Jack’s eyes, and the flash of realizing what this meant to the man, caused a deafening, inner scream as the rusty hinges of the door inside him wailed when the was rammed open. He had thought he understood before. He hadn’t.

Will was petrified. All the revelation and emotion tried to turn to an expression at once, turning the man in to living, breathing stone.   
“Jack…” Will whispered around the invisible hands that were strangling him. He was trying to apologize for what a fool he had been when he’d hurt his lover, meaning to chase him away. It was only now that Will could fully accept the fact that he was loved by this man with more than just his heart and his soul. Jack had tried to tell him, but he hadn’t listened. He had been too desperate to belong, to devote himself to Jack, to his duty, to this world, that he had been blind to the equal desperation that Jack held within him. In Will’s deepest being, Jack walked through the door and carefully shut it behind him.

 

The hands of time crept their bony fingers along Jack’s spine and made him break the moment he had wanted for forever.

“Shh, luv. My turn.” Jack stroke Will’s wrist gently and Will let go the death grip he had been clenching on Jack’s hand, almost stopping the circulation.   
Without another word, Jack nodded at the clerk as a sign to continue. 

The clerk swallowed a lump from her throat. She had never before witnessed a wedding where there were every kind of emotion in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife.   
There was definitely something strange about these people, more even then their names and their guests.

 

“You, William Turner. Take this ring from your husband, as a token of your marriage and his love.”

For Jack, time was once more warped. His time-space- continuum seemed to be composed of almost touchable nanoseconds, every one of them staying still for him to awe upon. Watching Will blink his eyes, breath, noticing a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead, were among the most fantastic things he’d ever seen. The man was so alive, so present and real, making everything else seem a confusing blur of fiction. Jack had never been this proud of himself. He belonged to Will, with everything he had, and Will was going to have him. 

With a movement that Jack thought was amazingly, immensely slow, he took the ring from the box, and for a hundred years he was sure that it was taking him too long to do this, that the sun had already gone down, that they had missed their cue and that Will was going to burst into flames or otherwise shrivel to a horrible death in front of his eyes for being on land.  
He swallowed and took a breath to chase away the thought.

Jack held Will’s hand and put the ring on his finger, pressing it down firmly, feeling around it to make sure it was going to stay there, that this wasn’t just some incredibly beautiful fantasy and he was forced to wake up from it any moment now. He didn’t want to wake up, if that was the case. Of course he wanted to wake up, he wanted another day. No. Yes.

Then it was Will’s turn to offer a path out of the never-ending circles of mind as he tenderly brushed Jack’s cheek to sweep away a drop of moisture that had somehow found it’s way down from his eye.

Eyes focusing back to the realm everybody else were at, Jack made what sounded like a remarkable discovery. 

“William.”

For another heart beat Jack was lost.

Then he found the question he hadn’t answered before. It was time to answer it properly.

“I do understand. I‘ll never go.”

Looking at his husband, his hand in Will‘s, his hand in Jack‘s and then the same all the way around, Jack felt his heart swelling with unpronounceable joy. 

  
He felt time looping back to its track along with the gigantic peculiar feeling of something been just moved to its rightful place in the world.   
He remembered that feeling from the night when Will had come to the Black Pearl to join his crew, so very long time, yet so very few moments ago.

“Jack.” 

Will’s expressions had taken a certain course and was now showing, with a very gleaming set of eyes and a dangerously lop-sided grin, that there were better activities than standing here, in front of all these people. 

“Captain Sparrow, mind if we take this somewhere else?” 

The curve of his brow dictated what was to be done next and Jack obediently obliged.

“Aye, Captain Turner!” Jack pulled himself to attention and turned to the clerk, startling her from intently following their faces and their dialogue. 

“Look lively, wench!“

The command made the clerk actually jump.

“We have places to be, plundering to do, err…booty to collect!”

The woman only stared at Jack suspiciously, not exactly sure whether to call for help of just start running right now. 

Jack tried to keep a straight face and leaned towards the woman again, rolling his wrist, again.  
“Means, ‘Please, continue, we’re in kind of a hurry.’” 

The polite tone of Jack made the woman kick start back to the business at hand. With these weirdoes these days, you better dance to their tune. You never know if it might save your life.

Keeping an eye on Jack, flicking his eyes on Will every now and then, just in case, she did what she was asked to do.

“As spouses, you are equal. Show your love, trust and respect to each other every day, and work together towards your joint prosperity.”

She felt a little more secure now that the men had again started staring in each others eyes with somewhat stupid grins on their faces.

“By the power vested in me by the authorities of this city, I now pronounce you married.”

Thanking her maker, the clerk folded the paper she had been cribbing from.  
“You may now kiss.”

“Finally!”  
Jack scooped Will on his arms and latched his lips on the slightly younger one’s as if he‘d only now had been given the permission to do so for the very first time. 

The crew burst into a howling, leering and cat-calling applause, some of them even hugging each other out of the sheer merriment.

Once Jack released Will, there was a book shoved between them.

The clerk was holding the book up along with a marriage agreement and a pen.  
“You have to sign these. Then it’s over.”

Will took the book and the papers as Jack grabbed the pen. Jack was first to speak. Smiling, he winked at the nervous woman and if he had a hat, he would have tipped it.  
“No, milady, it’s not over…”

With a small dignified bow, Will finished,   
“…It’s the beginning.”

 


End file.
